A Battle Of Expression
by Lydias word
Summary: "Tell me what has rendered your mind to such a state?" "There's this cacophony of voices... and they're screaming at me, telling me to stay away from you," "And what do you say?" "I don't want to." Hannibal/OC fic Will try to follow the show as accurately as possible (with minor tweeks) EVENTUAL SMUTTY GOODNESS/ANGST
1. Chapter 1

**An ivory acquaintance **

A story fell from melodic fingers, the keys emanating beauty and fragility with each touch; as a finger pressed against ivory in timed beats - a particular string of notes following, Hannibal Lecter felt something break inside him. His breath hitched, heart rate losing its composure, it stuttered.  
The woman playing was embodying perfection as she swayed with the notes. He was completely mesmorised by her expert fingers, and overwhelmed by his inability to look away. No musician had ever tempted his eyes so much; not one. He was at a loss as the last of her melody lingered on high notes, resonating within him.  
He stared. The woman left her fingers on the last of the keys that she played as a deep breath left her lungs. Her hair was long, stretching down her back in a plat of frosted brown. Her skin pale, but illuminated by the lights of the stage – she glowed. His eyes lingered on the deep blue dress that she wore, it rested at her knees, hugging her form tightly and shimmering under his gaze. Hannibal felt vulnerable at that moment. A tear had escaped him as he stood to give her his ovation – yet as he examined the audience he realised that there were only few others joining him in appreciation, while others sat and talked through haphazard claps. He felt fury burning deep in his stomach. He wanted to kill them all. Right now – take out a knife and draw it across the throat of the woman that was busy gossiping with her friend beside him, wanted to shove it deeply into the head of the man that was sitting there reading; not even acknowledging the greatness that just occurred. But he kept himself restrained. He would not kill today.  
The young girl took a bow and exited the stage.

The crowd dispersed in the lobby after, those that lingered hoping to speak with previous musicians that had performed.  
"It's been too long since you properly cooked for us, Hannibal." Mrs Kameda, an old friend, chastised, pursing her lips and giving him a stern glare. Hannibal straightened, "Come over and I will cook for you," he replied, gesturing with his wine glass, an encouraging upturn of lips present.  
The woman's hands were perched on her hips, her eyebrows rose, "I said properly – means dinner and a show," she leant back toward her friend behind her, "Have you seen him cook? It's an entire performance."  
Hannibal took a sip from his glass of wine and she continued, "He used to throw such exquisite dinner parties –  
Her voice continued in the background of Hannibal's mind, but as he continued to sip from his glass his eyes caught contact with one of his patients, Franklin, approaching him. He pulled his glass away, and turned his gaze back to his friend as she finished speaking – "…you heard me, _used to._" Her emphasis on the word did not faze him, nor did her stern expression.  
He leant forward, "And I will again, once inspiration strikes." He tilted his glass as though he was promising her a dinner party with a toast, and she smiled back to him.  
"You cannot force a feast, a feast must present itself."  
The woman pouted at his words, "it's a feast, not a Unicorn."  
"Oh but a feast is life, you put the life in your belly and you live," Hannibal replied proudly. She laughed and then glanced toward her left, noticing Franklin lingering, and said "...I believe this young man is trying to get your attention."  
Hannibal offered a small smile to Franklin and simply said, "Hello."  
"Hi, so good to see you," began Franklin, shaking Hannibal's hand, "this is my friend Tobias," he pointed to Tobias smiling.  
"Good evening," Doctor Lecter said, shaking Tobias's hand, who nodded a silent hello.  
"How do you two know each other?" Mrs Komeda questioned, glancing at the two new acquaintances. Hannibal paused, and looked back at the woman, "There should remain some mystery to my life outside the opera."  
Her token pout was back in place, and she had a teasing glare in her eyes – but as she remembered herself, she smiled toward Franklin and Tobias, humming in acknowledgement.  
Franklin scrunched his face and interjected, "I'm one of his patients."  
"Oh," she uttered, and he nodded at her in confirmation.  
Hannibal felt a sliver of anger resurfacing as he watched the words fall from Franklin's mouth, but thought better of saying anything and instead questioned Tobias, "Did you enjoy the performance?"  
Instead Franklin replied, "I did, I loved it," Tobias glanced at him, "...every minute of it."  
"His eyes kept wandering," Tobias began, "more interested in you than what was happening on stage."  
Hannibal's expression lacked emotion, but his tone took on a lighter one, "Oh, don't say too much – you must leave something for us to discuss next week."  
Momentarily his eyes were drawn to the woman that had given such an incredible performance. She was laughing modestly, as she conversed with other members of the audience.  
"Please excuse me," he said, and walked through the crowd to approach the woman.

Franklin turned, frustrated that Hannibal hadn't stayed longer to talk with him and his friend Tobias. The retreating back of his psychiatrist only angering him, "What's he so interested in?"  
"The woman that played that devastatingly stunning piano piece earlier in the show," Tobias replied firmly.  
Franklin sputtered nonsense from his mouth, "B-But she was terrible! I felt nothing when I watched her perform - he should have at least said goodbye to us first."  
Tobias let his friend utter his nuances freely – he knew there was no point in explaining the beauty of her performance, Franklin was small minded.

Hannibal waited patiently for the husband and wife that were conversing with the woman to leave. As they walked away, the woman looked at him and smiled meekly. Hannibal admired her cerulean eyes, and stepped closer to introduce himself.  
"Hello, I would just like to tell you how entranced I was by your performance. It was a rendition I have never heard before, but one that was overwhelmingly flawless, if I may say."  
The young girl was surprised by his words that she couldn't find any of her own to reply with. Hannibal recognised how at loss she was and interrupted her thoughts,  
"My name is Doctor Lecter, may I ask what yours is?"  
She held out her hand, smiling, "It's Lilia Peters. And it's lovely to meet you Doctor Lecter – and thank you for your compliments...I have received them before, but none as flattering as yours, it's slightly overwhelming."  
Hannibal chuckled slightly. He liked that a rosy colour had spread across the young girls cheeks -  
"I'm quite confident that you will receive compliments greater than mine in the near future. When are you playing next? I would love to attend another of your performances."  
She fumbled for words and briefly avoided eye contact with him, "Two Saturday's from now."  
"Excellent," he smoothed his suit jacket and took her hand, bringing it to his lips while his eyes paralleled her own, "I am ecstatic to see you perform again, Miss Peter's." His lips brushed the back of her hand, and he reveled in the way her pulse trembled.  
"Good evening," with those words he let go of her hand and left.

Lilia was unsure whether her heart had ever thumped at such a multitude before. It was erratic and frantic, and her breaths were rapidly escaping her.  
"_How could one stranger make me so unnerved?"_ she wondered, clasping her hands together and smiling politely at the remnants of people that were passing her by as they left.  
Her mind lent her one certainty though; and that was that she was definitely excited to meet Doctor Lecter again – there was just something about him that intrigued her.


	2. Chapter 2

**The tattered lives we live**

Lilia's apartment was small, secluded on the end of Bayshore Avenue, Baltimore – she was on the thirteenth floor, which was the top floor of the building. Lilia adored it. Being on the top floor meant that she had access to the rooftop, and although she was close to the inner city, she could still see stars, milky across the sky at night.  
Her home was adorned with freshly painted white walls; which she painted when she first arrived, as she liked how much it opened up the rooms, the floors were deep brown hardwood – hardly any damage from previous owners, and the rooms were spacious, her kitchen opened up into a small sitting room, which was accessible by a small step from the kitchen – two deep grey couches and a small coffee table faced a television (where she spent most nights asleep in front of), there was a wide space just behind her couch, before her bedroom door, where her electric keyboard was; most of her music was haphazard across the keys where she had left it that morning, her bedroom was connected to the sitting room; a large mahogany four poster bed sat in the middle of the room, her two bed side tables on either side and a small dresser secluded in the corner – Lilia liked her bedroom, she bought a deep red quilt cover and navy blue sheets and pillows for her bed when she first moved in, if Lilia was honest, her bathroom was sometimes her most favourite part of her apartment, she had the luxury of having a shower and a large porcelain bathtub (where many a night were spent drinking wine and relaxing into suffocatingly relaxing bubbles).  
When Lilia arrived home that evening she slipped off her heels and instantly felt her feet thank her in their relief. She sighed and placed them by the door, walking into the kitchen and searching her refrigerator for something to eat. She wasn't sure if she could actually eat, she just knew she had to.  
Her nerves were still slightly shaken from her encounter earlier in the evening, and for some reason she couldn't shake Doctor Lecter from her mind.  
She gave up on food and poured herself a glass of red wine before relaxing back into her couch.  
"_I am ecstatic to see you perform again, Miss Peter's." _ His accented voice echoed in her head, and she traced the rim of her glass in thought.  
"_He was intimidating... and I don't know if it was the good kind or bad."  
_She decided to push him from her mind, because now was time to research. As well as being a part time musician and performer, Lilia studied at the University of Baltimore, majoring in Biology and Sub-majoring in Psychiatry. It was her second year in Biology but her first year in Psychiatry, as she decided she wanted more knowledge about human nature, not just their biological patterns, but their psychological ones as well. She was incredibly astute in all of her classes, and constantly researching to make sure she achieved the highest grades possible.  
Lilia grabbed one of her biology textbooks from the table and opened it to the last page, the chapter was titled '_Decomposition And The Human Body,' _she sighed in contentment – she had been looking forward to reading this chapter. She cuddled further into the couch, took one last sip of wine, and proceeded to absorb the information before her.

Hannibal admired the work of art he had created. This woman was almost one of his masterpieces, her naked skin battered with dirt, hair strewn about her hanging face... _a lifeless work of art._  
He had placed the lower half of her body into the ground, so she was vertical, planted like a seed, and he had tied both of her hands to thick branches so he could position her like a puppet – both hands facing toward the sky.  
His favourite part about this particular piece was the hands – he had used a knife to make petal like incisions around her wrist, and he peeled back the skin as though each individual peel of skin from each wrist were flower petals.  
He had taken her Kidneys before he began, and now he could feel his heartbeat tremoring at the thought of what delicious meal he would be making from his prize.

"So first we have an insane musician, making people into human instruments – and now we have a _separate _'artist' making people into freaking plants – are you kidding me? Do you truly believe that two completely different people created these – these monstrosities, Will?" Jack Crawford stood, hands in pockets, angry breaths escaping him and expression lingering on disgust at the sight before him.  
Will's face was contorted, his brow shook with the horror of what he was seeing, and although it wasn't as gruesome as some of the other deaths he had seen recently, this one was particularly shattering for him.  
Shortly after he evaluated the scene before him, he fell to his knees shaking, gasping as revelation swelled in teary eyes.  
"T-This killer is _different. _He was inspired. The care that he took with the frame, the condition of the body - even though she looks grubby, that's what he wanted you to see – what he wanted us to see. This was _impulsive._ **Bold, **even."  
Will's breathing returned to a normal pace, and he stood next to a concerned and utterly confused Jack Crawford.  
"What makes you say that?" He questioned, looking back to the young girls body that was now surrounded by tape.  
Will paced back and forward searching his mind, "I can't be sure exactly, Jack. I just know. This was an accidental masterpiece, almost as though this killer is _happy." _ His eyes caught jack's before he looked away nervously, Jack let out a deep laugh and threw his hands in exasperation, "Good, at least he's happy. There's another life less in the world and our killer is _happy!_ Good work, Will."  
He walked away after his outburst, mumbling words that Will couldn't hear – or rather, didn't care to hear.

Hannibal sat across from Franklin in his office, the young man fidgeting in the uncomfortable silence, unsure of the impassive expression upon Hannibal's face.  
"Would you like to discuss our chance encounter?" Hannibal asked politely, his tone soft but void of emotion, he had to be careful with Franklin.  
"Wasn't all together chance, I kinda thought you'd be there, which isn't why I was there, I was there because I like that sort of thing. Just occurred to me that you might, too," replied Franklin, words quick and attempting to be casual.  
Hannibal opened his clasped hands, and tilted his head to the side, "In fact I do."  
"I tried to get your attention," laughed Franklin, gesturing toward Hannibal.  
"I was aware of that."  
"I knew that you were aware," Franklin began, pointing a finger at Hannibal and then taking a lower tone, "...even though you were pretending that you weren't."  
Hannibal adjusted in his chair, leaning slightly forward, "It would be unethical to approach a patient or acknowledge in any way our relationship outside this room until that patient gives consent."  
"Franklin sighed, "but I really don't know who you are outside this room," his hand motioning in the air.  
"I'm your psychiatrist," he returned, reaching for his diary and pen.  
"I-I want you to be my friend."  
"Of course you do, I have intimate knowledge of you."  
Franklin ignored what Hannibal said and continued, "...and we like the same things, I think that we would make good friends."  
Hannibal's frustration was not relayed on his face or in any way physically, but internally he could feel the anger beginning to simmer, Franklin was not a patient that he truly had an interest in.  
"Even Tobias, for instance, he seems to have taken an interest in you as well."  
Hannibal felt more compelled to listen now as he had also taken an interest in Tobias. He felt a connection with the man the first night he met him – something familiar dwelling in his eyes.  
Franklin continued, knowing he had captured the attention of Doctor Lecter, "Tobias didn't say much about you, but I just knew from the way he spoke to you that he had taken a large interest in you. He doesn't usually converse well with others, but he spoke so freely with you. And then when you walked over to that girl that played – uh, whatever she played, he couldn't take his eyes off you then."  
Hannibal cringed internally, offended by the choice of words Franklin had used to describe the young girl, Lilia, that he had watched perform that night. It wasn't that he was offended by the fact that Franklin didn't know what the young woman had played, because Hannibal did not know the name of the piece either (he had forgotten to ask), but he was offended by the way Franklin so carelessly dismissed her in the conversation, as though her music meant nothing.  
He straightened, knowing that Franklin was still hopeful waiting for his reply.  
"Tell me more about Tobias," Hannibal asked, trying to change the topic.  
"Tobias is my best friend – but I don't see what he has to do with this. Why can't we just be friends? I'm a great friend."  
He heard the desperation in Franklin's voice, and almost cut his throat at that moment. He wanted to watch the blood poor from him and watch as his face paled while life fell from his wound. But instead he let Franklin finish. He did not cut Franklin's throat, or watch the blood drain from him – he listened to the imbecile of a man as he poured his heart out about Michael Jackson, and when Franklin finished, he went left and forgot about him.

**A/N: Hello to everyone who has decided to give my ficlet a chance! Thanks for joining me, and welcome aboard! Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, and I realise it is taking a little while to kick off, but SOON there will be delightfully sickening romantic scenes, allllll of the smutty goodness, and angst! But we need to get there.  
For those of you who are musically inclined like I am, the piece that I had in mind for Lilia that she plays at the first concert is Opus by Dustin O'Halloran from his Transcendentalism EP, and if I do more chapters with her playing the piano I will put a link of what song she will be playing for the chapter ****J** **, I think it makes the story more fun!**

The link for the song is underneath, but hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and hopefully I can update sooner rather than later!

watch?v=rvK-pNda_k&amp;list=PLkgI_HOcQENwJHWwNR9KiK9GrGTvHqJwu&amp;index=59


	3. Chapter 3

**The Light That Touches Skin  
**

**AN: The song Lilia plays here is We Move Lightly by Dustin O'halloran.  
**

The notes echoed like elegant footfalls against pavement, and felt like a savoured breath as sun kissed skin tingled in the chilly air of autumn. The composition was crippling, the audience in awe as the strokes of violin washed lightly over the notes of the piano – a combination that became devastating in its beauty. As the crescendo rose, the vibrations in the auditorium became so intense that each mouth parted and wordless air fell free.  
Hannibal clenched the arms of his chair, attempting to still the emotions that were swirling within him. He was witness to such a magnificent performance, and he could barely stop the few tears that escaped him. Music had always been something that had shaken Hannibal, from a very young age. It spoke to him, with notes and strings, variations in pitch, the rise and fall of the crescendo – the ability to wield emotion that it held thrilled him and absolutely terrified him too.  
His gaze fell upon Lilia Peters, the pianist, playing the breathtaking piece. She was ethereal. Her eyes were closed as her body moved with each press of the keys. And how his entire being stuttered when she tilted her head and opened her eyes and cerulean stared directly back at him; emotion so pure, and so _naked_ that he drowned. Hannibal Lecter _did not_ drown, and yet... _he did_. Over and over, with each press of finger to key, he felt his breath being stolen, _taken _against his will and it was intoxicating.  
When she finally looked away, he felt the pressure on his lungs evaporate, and air came easier to him. He calmed himself – the piece had finally come to its end, and he, among every single person in the auditorium, stood to applaud the incredible performance. This moment had been something he knew he was meant to experience, it was design. The crowd was loud in appreciation of the ensemble, and cheers ricocheted around the room as each member took a bow and exited the stage.  
Afterward Hannibal was met with surprise as he noticed his close friend Mrs Komeda, her acquaintance Mr Johnson and Tobias Budge, speaking with Miss Peters. He saw no Franklin in sight, but was weary as he knew he would be close by. He approached the conversing few, and clasped his hands together as Mrs Komeda greeted him -  
"Well, hello again Hannibal, how lovely to see you again," she said, smiling and touching his arm in acknowledgement.  
Hannibal smiled back, "It is lovely to see you again Mrs Komeda. And how did everyone like the show?"  
Mrs Komeda was first to comment, "It was quite brilliant. Something I will remember for my lifetime."  
"Yes, it really was," Tobias interjected, giving a small smile to Miss Peters.  
Hannibal glanced at Tobias, and noticed his eyes lingering on Miss Peters, and suddenly feeling protective over her – this stranger.  
"I must say, your performance was utterly breathtaking – it was hard for me to look away," he started, offering her a practiced smile and then continuing, "You look lovely tonight, Miss Peters."  
Her porcelain cheeks prickled with pink modesty and her eyes fluttered as she uttered a small, "Thank you, Doctor Lecter."  
"Well, Hannibal, I think you know exactly what I'm going to say, don't you?" Mrs Komeda chided, her voice flirtatious but friendly. Hannibal let a small chuckle escape him, "Of course, dear Sylvia, you would like to know when I am having another feast." His knowing tone was rinsed with a monotonous quality, but one that Sylvia Komeda took as Hannibal's attempt at humour. So she laughed, nodding at him, and nudging Mr Johnson, who was next to her, while Hannibal cleared his throat, "Why don't you join me for dinner tomorrow evening at 7pm, if that is acceptable?"  
Mrs Komeda beamed, "Oh, how wonderful! You all are going to be so pleased – do you mind if I bring Penelope and Margarite, they would be devastated if they knew you had a feast without them!"  
Hannibal clasped his hands together and tilted his head toward her, "Of course they can attend. It would not be the same without them. The invitation extends to Mr Budge and Miss Peters as well, I would be happy to welcome you both into my home if you so pleased."  
Tobias smirked, a subtle tilt of his lips, "It would be a pleasure to attend. I'm assuming this is something I should not mention to franklin?" he questioned.  
"If you would not mind, I believe that having Franklin attend the dinner would be a setback in his therapy, if not unprofessional on my behalf."  
Tobias accepted Hannibal's words and then bid goodnight to him, as well as Miss Komeda and her companion, leaving Hannibal to stand in front of Miss Peters.  
She seemed to be nervously playing with the clip of her purse, avoiding eye contact with Hannibal. He felt an ember burning within as he absorbed her flushed cheeks and modest smile.  
"And you, Miss Peters, will you be attending my dinner, tomorrow night?"  
She looked at him then, and he could see the uncertainty lurking, but her smile was sweet and genuine and he couldn't help but imitate it as he waited for her reply.  
"I would _love_ to come, but I hardly know you...it would be inappropriate for me to attend."  
"Would you decline an offer for coffee with an acquaintance you had just met?" He inquired - voice level and calm.  
"N-No...but..."  
"Then there is no difference," he cut in, "One would not decline an outing with a new acquaintance – what of a dinner invitation with multiple acquaintances? Not only could it be an opportunity for new friendships, but Sylvia, Mrs Komeda, knows many successful classical musicians in the business that she could introduce you to. Think of it as a business opportunity, Miss Peters."  
Hannibal noticed the light in her eyes glow when he mentioned the part about Mrs Komeda having connections in the industry – though; he was slightly disappointed that she had not accepted the invitation first hand, at least she was honest about it.  
She sighed, a nervous laugh escaping her, "That sounds wonderful. So 7pm, tomorrow evening at –  
"125 Roselyn Street, Baltimore," he replied, an upturn of lips.  
Lilia's face was a painting of surprise as her mouth moulded into a slight O, "...125 Roselyn Street, Baltimore." Her tone was musing as she repeated the street name.  
"Is something the matter, Miss Peters?"  
"No, it's just," she chewed on her bottom lip, trying to find her words before she answered, "well...I live a street away, on Bayshore Avenue, actually."  
For once, surprise actually was evident on Doctor Lecters face. His brow rose, his forehead creased, and he confirmed, "Bayshore Avenue? My office is on 687, are you close by?"  
"Quite close actually," she laughed, a beautiful stretch of vocal chords, her hand coming to her mouth in a modest attempt to hush the raise in voice that had escaped her, "That is quite interesting," she finished, a soft expression on her face as her eyes searched his.  
"Indeed," he said, quietly.  
Hannibal held his hand out and she met his with her own, he held it for seconds, and then, "It is time I left you this evening, Miss Peters. I would truly enjoy having your presence at the dinner tomorrow evening, if you do decide to come. And your performance tonight was one I shall never forget."  
"Thank you, Doctor Lecter. It was lovely seeing you again, and meeting your friends. Good evening."  
Her goodbye was short, but her smile lingered in the air, even after she had left Hannibal to watch her retreating form, it lingered even after he was one of the last people in the foyer – he could still smell the intoxicating fragrance that seemed to be her skin, and he _ached _to see her again. She lingered.

**Hi again! So I realised that I spelled Mrs Komeda's name wrong in previous chapters, I had been spelling it as 'Kameda,' but it's actually 'Komeda,' so sorry about that!  
Anyway, I'm still working my way up to the whole everything of the story, please bear with me – just thought I would post a short chapter tonight to keep you going. ****  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**An evening of surprise**

The evening was exquisite. Crisp air flooded from the open window in Hannibal's house. He was ecstatic knowing that he was about to gift guests with one of his most gracious feasts. He had prepared a roast of _mixed_ meats and revelled in the delight of watching his guest's faces as their taste buds experienced such a delicacy.  
It wasn't often that Hannibal threw a dinner party; his lifestyle now didn't approve of it. He didn't approve of it. Something about having to be in such a close proximity to inept fools made him always apprehensive of what the evening could entail.  
Of course, he was happy to have Sylvia attend, and her friend Mr Johnson – sometimes seeing his old friends allowed him to remember the finer aspects of his memories; where he eradicated those that were rude or in need of killing. And he certainly felt something simmering inside of him at the thought of Miss Peters attendance. But Margarite and Penelope were always shy of poking Hannibal's darker side. _Margarite _more so.  
It was almost another lifetime ago now, but once, Hannibal had allowed himself to be sucked into the longing looks and flirty banter that she had thrown at him. It was fun for him. Until she began insisting they lived together and made something of their relationship.  
Hannibal had never thought of having a significant other. They would have to understand the art that he created for the world – maybe even delve into it at times. But, even then, he would have trouble adjusting to someone that he would feel compelled to _outdo _all of the time and that was where he knew it would end.  
So when Margarite propositioned him he kindly declined and attempted to keep some semblance of a friendship with her. But she was almost psychotic at times with her want for him that she made it blatant to the light of day; every greeting, and touch and smile felt incredibly obnoxious and presumptuous to Hannibal. And that was where she almost always became his next victim.  
Lastly…he was not sure whether inviting Tobias Budge was one of his best decisions. He felt his darkness crawl up and out of his throat when he first greeted Tobias, and when Tobias spoke, Hannibal saw that same darkness reach from him to touch his own. They were the same.

The night became enigmatic. Hannibal greeted his guests with polite words and ushered them into the dining room, where he had one of his favourite composers playing lightly on a record.  
Each guest had dressed quite amicably for the occasion. He smirked, glad that they knew formal attire was best worn in his house.  
He had invited Will Graham, Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom. Will, dear Will, had tried his best to look as neat as the others but he always had a haphazard air about him. It comforted Hannibal to know that most of his tendencies were haphazard – he did find Mr Graham quite the interesting enigma.  
Miss Bloom had dressed in a black evening dress that went just past her knees. It was simple, but it suited her and she looked quite lovely.  
Jack had chosen a white dress shirt with a blue tie and black dress pants. Acceptable.

"I welcome you all to take a seat where you please, we shall eat shortly."  
Everyone smiled and each of the guests started to introduce themselves as they took a seat at the table.  
Hannibal made his way back into the kitchen to fill glasses of wine for everyone. He knew that red wine would definitely go much better with the meal, but from memory not each of his guests enjoyed red wine as much as he. So he filled some of the glasses with red and the others with white and carried them out on a serving tray.  
When he reached the dining table again, placing the wine down, he heard his doorbell ring and wondered if it was Tobias Budge, or Miss Peters. It was nearing 7pm now.  
So he adjusted his suit jacket, which was one of his favourites. He had chosen his dark grey suit, with a maroon tie (one of his more favoured colours), that brought out the deeper greys in the suit.  
When he opened the door he had to stifle the surprise - stifle the _anger _that struck him. There were three before him. One was the exquisite, Miss Peters, who he would have to admire later, because next to Tobias Budge was none other than Franklin. His patient Franklin. Who he had insisted did not come.  
Now Hannibal's mind calculated for half a second. He contemplated just shoving the pen that was in his front pocket into the throat of Mr Budge and then wrapping his hands around the smug Franklin and choking the oxygen from his body. But his expression stayed calm. And he smiled to his guests and to his unexpected one.  
"Ah, Franklin – so good of you to join us."  
Franklin laughed and shoved his way through the door frame to take Hannibal's now outstretched hand, "Thank you so much for inviting me," he said while looking back to Tobias and smiling – "When Tobias told me you were happy for me to come I was relieved. I knew you enjoyed my company!"  
Hannibal stopped himself from grimacing, and turned his attention to Mr Budge,  
"Tobias, welcome."  
"It smells delightful in here Doctor Lecter," replied Tobias.  
Outwardly he appeared to be nothing but a mere delighted guest shaking hands with his host.  
But what no one knew, was that it was actually a declaration of war. An exchange of swords. He invited Franklin to spite Hannibal, and that was one **grave **mistake.  
Tobias and Franklin ushered into the dining room, and left Miss Peters by the door. Hannibal was still furious, but her presence washed over him like silk. And he felt calmer. He felt himself smile, not of his accord and took her hand lightly.  
"Miss Peters, you look lovely."  
He liked that he could make her blush so easily (was he the only one that could make her blush?). Her hair was pulled back into a braided bun, and she wore a black evening dress, similar to Alana's, but Lilia's was slightly more form fitting. It sloped into a V and became tighter around the waist. Its length at the front was shorter, just above the knees, and it draped down to her calves at the back. He inhaled as he kissed her hand lightly in greeting. And her heart was in her throat.  
"Thank you," she started, her smile infectious, she tilted her head and he let go of her hand.  
He showed Miss Peters to the dining room and sat her next to the left of the head of the table, right next to Will Graham and then said,  
"Let the evening begin."

**OK, I am 100 percent sorry for how long it took me to update. To be honest I just felt no inspiration, but now I'm reeling! And hoping to get the next chapter out ASAP.  
I hope you enjoyed this one!  
Promise things will get quite interesting soon! ****J**


	5. Chapter 5

**Where time stood still**

**A/N: The song Lilia plays is called Death Of A President by Dustin O'Halloran. Here's the link :D **

** watch?v=IOpoigUkZF8**

"So Mr Graham, how do you and Doctor Lecter know each other?" Lilia asked politely. The other guests had all started talking amongst themselves – Hannibal's attention given to Mrs Komeda, while Penelope and Margarite exchanged subtle whispers with each other. Alana and Jack were involved in a heated discussion about ethics with Franklin and Tobias and it seemed that Will and Lilia were the only ones not discussing something. So she began a conversation with him.  
Will made partial eye contact with her, and gave a shaky laugh, "Well, Hannibal and I have worked together."  
Lilia prompted onwards, "May I ask what you do for work?" She was interested.  
Will sat back in his chair, "I work for the FBI. Jack kind of found me and decided that my expertise in empathetic analysis would be helpful for them. I'm able to uh, get into a killers mind…I suppose."  
She noticed that the subject of work wasn't really something that he seemed too comfortable talking about. It looked like it made him nervous. So she tried to think of something else to say.  
"I'm not very good company, am I?" He asked with a shy, but almost mischievous grin. Lilia laughed at him, offering her sweet smile, and Will felt better.  
"How do you know Hannibal?" he asked.  
Lilia glanced over to Hannibal, noticing that his gaze had drifted briefly over to them, she looked back to Will.  
"Well I play concerts sometimes at the Auditorium, I'm a Pianist. And Hannibal attended one of the shows that I played in…I guess he liked my music?"  
Together they both laughed at her words.  
"You must be exceptional to have caught his attention," Will commented and she hid a shy smile beneath her hand.  
"I have a lot to learn-"  
"That might be true, but Hannibal has an incredibly astute eye for detail; he wouldn't have been so inclined to invite you to dinner if your music hadn't encapsulated him."  
"Oh," was all she said, turning her gaze back to Doctor Lecter, who was once again involved in a conversation with Mrs Komeda, and now his old friends Penelope and Margarite.

"What have you two been talking about?" Jack questioned from his end of the table, and Lilia glanced over to him – it seemed that Franklin, Tobias and Alana were also interested in what conversation had occurred between Will and herself.  
"Well," Will began, hesitant, "actually, I was just asking Lilia how she knew Hannibal. And then she mentioned that she met him at the auditorium– "  
"And she plays incredibly captivating pieces," Hannibal interjected. It seemed that everyone at the dining table were all now interested in the conversation.  
"Why don't you play something for us darling?" Asked Mrs Komeda, her hands folded neatly under her chin as she smiled at Lilia.  
"O-oh …" she panicked, not used to playing in an intimate setting at all, but then Hannibal lightly touched the side of her wrist and she looked up to him with tingling skin as he said softly,  
"If you wouldn't be opposed, I would greatly enjoy one of your melodies." And she nodded.

Each of the guests entered Hannibal's sitting room, which included his Grand Piano. Hannibal led her toward it with his hand at the small of her back and he asked her, "What will you play?"  
They paused at the piano, and she stretched her hand out to run her fingers across the keys.  
"I have nothing prepared…" She said quietly, her attention still taken by the beautiful instrument before her.  
The voice of Tobias Budge pulled her from her reverie, and she turned as he said "Play something of your own. I'm sure we would all love to hear an original piece."  
Everyone agreed as they took seats where they could find them, some just preferring to stand, and some preferring to scowl at the attention that Hannibal was giving to Lilia.

She seated herself at the Piano and shaky breaths escaped her. She looked up at Hannibal. He had decided to stand to the right of the piano, leaning against one of the couches in the room, but he was still closest to her. He tilted his head as if to say "you may begin," and so she delved deep within herself, and found a melody she hadn't played in such a long time that it was almost forgotten. Almost.  
The notes left her fingers lightly and she felt her body bend with each cadence. It was slow to leave her at first, and all of the guests watched her, some half-heartedly. Others were drawn to the quiet pull of the timing as it wrapped around them and let them see the notes before them.  
And as she let a quick string of notes fall down a scale, she felt the pain of the melody start to take over her body.  
It slowed and she breathed. Her eyes shifted upward, and she saw Hannibal's face, really _saw _his face. It was immersed in every emotion that left her fingertips. As though he knew the exact story she was telling; he could see every single fragment.  
She felt her skin prickling under his gaze. It was like his hands were covering hers, following the story. She felt exposed. And yet, she couldn't look away.  
She repeated the fast string of notes again, nearing the end of the melody. And before she let herself become swept up in the hypnotic pull of his rough brown eyes, she closed her own; pouring what she had left into the last few notes of the piece. And she finished.

She opened her eyes and everyone had already started clapping for her. But she paused before turning to them, caught by Hannibal's gaze.  
He was clapping softly, but she felt something leave her as she stared and watched as it slivered toward Hannibal. His lips quirked as though he knew exactly what had just happened, but even she didn't know.  
She shook herself and turned to smiling faces. Questions were flying at her from Jack and Sylvia. Tobias was standing next to Franklin, loudly proclaiming how incredibly sublime her rendition was.  
Lilia felt so overwhelmed at that moment – she usually had some time after a performance where she could calm her nerves from playing, but this setting was so intimate.

Hannibal, still standing where he had been when she was playing, watched as his guests gushed over Miss Peters.  
Margarite had at some point made it to his side and now stood stoic and clearly unhappy.  
"Is something the matter Margarite?" he questioned, keeping his stare forward.  
"O-Oh, nothing is the matter at all Hannibal. I was just admiring your new friend. Lilly was it?"  
"Lilia," he corrected, "but yes, I think after that performance we should all be admiring Miss Peters. It was ensnaring, don't you think?"  
Margarite chewed her lip, something she did when she was trapping words in her mouth.  
"Don't you?" He asked again, this time turning to look at her. And then she let a sickeningly sweet smile out, "Oh yes. She is quite wonderful. Such a sweet, _young _girl."  
Hannibal quirked his lips, "Ah – yes. She is young, but I believe a much older soul lives beneath that radiant skin."  
"Excuse me, Margarite." He said, leaving her side.  
It was evident that Margarite was appalled that Hannibal had left her there to go and join the others. She felt such fury thrumming in her veins that her hands began to shake – how could such an inexperienced, insignificant woman steal the eyes of her Hannibal?

After joining the conversation surrounding Lilia for a few moments, Hannibal realised that in their haste to hear her play that he hadn't cleared the table.  
So while his guests conversed he began taking all of the plates and empty glasses back to the kitchen.  
"You seem to have a very interesting group of friends Doctor Lecter," Alana's voice echoed behind him as he put the dirty plates into the water in the sink.  
"Why do you say that Miss Bloom?" He turned to find her leaning against the counter, a calculating stare.  
"They're just all so intelligent and poised, although Miss Komeda, Sylvia, seems more outgoing than Penelope and Margarite. She's very easy to talk to. I didn't get to talk much to Penelope and Margarite."  
Hannibal leant on the other side of the counter, "It can take some time to get to know Penelope and Margarite. I'm afraid they can sometimes stay in their world instead of embracing others."  
"They do seem lovely though. And you, you are quite the host Doctor Lecter. I had no idea you were such a divine cook."  
Hannibal grinned then, he knew his food had been exquisite.  
"They are lovely, and thank you. You know we have worked together for some time, you may call me Hannibal if you so please."  
She laughed and leant over the counter raising her eyebrows, "Only if you call me Alana."

A few minutes passed with varying conversation between Hannibal and Alana until they decided to join the others.  
Will had left without saying goodbye, which disappointed Hannibal. But as Jack relayed Will's goodbye to him, he found that apparently he wasn't feeling too well, and so he tried to be more understanding.  
Franklin had cornered Lilia and it looked as though his mouth was continuing to run, and run…and run.  
So Hannibal walked over to them, still by the piano, and was about to speak before Lilia said, "Oh, Doctor Lecter! I was just about to come and find you, I actually have to be leaving now."  
"You do?" Asked Franklin, probably wanting to continue his story.  
"I'm so sorry Franklin…I really was enjoying our conversation though. Perhaps the next time Doctor Lecter has a dinner party I'll see you again and we can continue?"  
Franklin clapped his hands together, "of course! I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."  
At that Hannibal placed his hand on the small of Lilia's back and leant close to her ear,  
"Let me escort you to the door."  
Lilia couldn't stop her cheeks from heating, again. So she cleared her throat, and bid her goodbyes to everyone as they walked through the sitting room and down the hall to the front door.  
"Did you enjoy your evening Miss Peters?" Hannibal asked as they came to a stop in front of it.  
"I don't think I've ever eaten anything so lavish. And everyone is so lovely! Sylvia wanted to introduce me to some producers she knows…I don't know if I'm ready for something like that, and it was very overwhelming – oh…sorry I'm rambling."  
Hannibal placed his hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her, "I am pleased that you enjoyed tonight. I am very thankful that you decided to attend. I think I feel something akin to an addiction starting for your music, Miss Peters."  
Her smile was modest, tucked beneath twitching lips. He moved his hand from her shoulder and she felt the echoes of heat from his touch.  
"Thank you for having me," she said softly, not caring to tear her eyes from his just yet.  
"Thank you for gracing us with your presence. Please take care."  
And then she left his apartment. And Hannibal lifted the hand that had touched her shoulder, still prickling with the remnants of her, and briefly wondered if her screams would hold the same agony her melodies did. But the more overpowering thought at the forefront of his mind was why could he still feel the cool press of her shoulder in his palm?

**A/N: Yas! Two chapters in one day, even though they're super short and everyone probably hates me. BUT LOVE ME, OR LOVE THEM. Hannibal and Lilia, that is.  
I really hope you liked this chapter anyways, and I'm definitely going to try and write MILLIONS more this week.  
3 thanks for reading! **


	6. Chapter 6

**An Anchor**

It was the early hours of the morning and sunlight streamed through Will's window over his empty bed. Will was stretched out on the floor, surrounded by his beloved canines, attempting to fix a broken object. The morning so far had been quiet. He had enjoyed the remnants of peace he felt while distracting himself with fixing something.  
It was sudden, the sound. A distant squeal carried to his ears by the wind. At first he tilted his head, did he hear something? No. He continued to turn the screw driver in his hand a few notches. But then it happened again, it was louder, definite. It echoed across the room and as he heard the cries of what sounded like a wounded animal he jerked from his place on the floor to search for it.  
He was outside swiftly, nearing the edge of his parked car as he met momentary silence. Then in the distance, where grass was powdered with snow he heard the wounded call again. And as his eyes scanned the vast land before him, as the echoes of the cry lessened, he began to doubt whether the noises were real.  
This type of thing had been happening of late. His mind, his _fragile _mind had been deteriorating with each step he took into the world of Jack Crawford. He had debated for **hours **whether or not it was all worthwhile. Deep down he knew that even if he lost his sanity it would all be worth it if he could keep a little less evil out of the world.  
He had asked Alana to come by earlier after he had heard the noises. She had come as quickly as he called. She knew he was worried about what was going on with his mind. Hell, she was worried about how corrupted it had become after everything Will had been exposed to.  
So when she showed up and walked the fields with Will, as though it were normal for a friend to call another to go on a wild goose chase in the early hours of the morning, he truly realised that losing pieces of his sanity wasn't so bad. Because for the first time in a very long time Will Graham felt like he had true friends. And he wanted to protect them. As much as his mind would allow him to.

After everything that had happened with his mind already that morning, Will decided that visiting Doctor Lecter would probably be the best course of action for him.  
And so he found himself on Bayshore Avenue a few hours later, ordering a chamomile tea before his appointment in a small café.  
"Will?" A familiar voice called from behind him. He turned around and saw the smiling mouth of Lilia Peter's. It took him some time to finally make some form of eye contact with her.  
"Hi, how're you?" he asked, slightly nervous, but calmer than he usually was with new acquaintances. It had been over a week now since he had met Lilia at Hannibal's dinner party (which he had left without really saying goodbye to anyone).  
"I'm doing really well, thank you. I heard you've been a little ill lately though, I hope you're feeling a bit better now." She said, hugging her cup of coffee tightly to warm her hands.  
"Actually I am feeling better. I am about to go see Doctor Lecter. Have you seen him much lately?" Will observed the brief flash of something that scattered across her eyes, but it went as quickly as it came and she replied -  
"Honestly no. And it's quite humorous actually…considering I live in the apartment building on this avenue and I've not once crossed paths with Doctor Lecter. I have been studying for exams this week though, so if I did cross paths with him I might not have noticed considering my mind is busy struggling to hold onto the information I'm stuffing in there."  
She paused and laughed at her last words. Will's face was scrunched into an expression most resembling pain. She wasn't offended by it, only embarrassed that she had let herself ramble on to him.  
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to talk so much, it's just nice to see you again. Sometimes my brain does involuntary things like throwing multiple words at people when they're clearly trying to go somewhere."  
Will let out a small laugh. He found it surprising but he found her interesting, and it was hard for him to find people interesting. Something he had abruptly stated to Hannibal the first time he met him.  
"Don't apologise. It's nice to see you again too. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but Hannibal doesn't like to be kept waiting."  
"Of course! Would you mind telling him I said hello, and that I hope he's well too?"  
Will shook his head, a slightly jittery laugh escaping him again, "Sure. I'll see you soon Lilia, take care."

Lilia had a soft smile on her face when she reached the campus. It was remiss of Will Graham's slightly awkward behaviour and their small conversation. It was a nice distraction from the anxiousness that built up inside of her at the thought of her exams.  
Today was just a trial examination for her psychology class. The entirety of the students in the course were to meet in one of the largest lecture halls on the campus.  
"So, you ready for the exam?" called Elyse, one of her closest friends as she fell in step with Lilia.  
Lilia felt her pulse jitter as she thought about taking a test, "I think so. I have been studying as much as time would allow this week, and I know it's only a trial, but I think I'm ready."  
Elyse smiled at her friend in mirth. She knew that Lilia would have no trouble with this test, even though she was nervous about it.  
"You are ready. And I think I am too, so it'll be a good day today!"  
They walked together hastily as the sky started to release specks of rain, and continued their catch up.  
Lilia realised that with everything that had been going on musically for her and with her studies, she hadn't spent much time with Elyse. She felt bad, but she knew that Elyse had her hands as full as her. Though; she missed her company.

The lecture hall wasn't very far away now, but it was the horde of distressed voices that made Lilia and Elyse break out of conversation.  
"What's going on?" Elyse mumbled as she squinted through the rain that had started to spit furiously at them.  
As they neared the mass of students, the girls realised that they were actually fleeing from the lecture hall. The cries of fear and pale faces made them suddenly worried.  
Lilia didn't know why but her feet carried her faster through the crowd of distress, something causing her to gravitate to the doors of the hall.  
Elyse's voice although loudly protesting, fell softly on her ears. White noise.  
"Lilia!" It was louder this time, trying to pull her out of her trance. Elyse's hand tugged and tugged at her arm until she shook it free from her.  
"Just wait here!" She yelled back.  
Elyse was startled by her yell, and even more so by the waves of rage she could see dwelling in Lilia's eyes. So she stopped.

Lilia had no idea what she was doing. Her heart was pounding, **bashing **against her ribcage like her body was foreign and it could no longer stand it. But she couldn't stop the steps that she took. She saw the doors nearing and begged her body to stop moving. But it didn't. She placed her hand on the door and pushed.  
Once she was inside the smell that assaulted her nostrils was almost unbearable. It was putrid and seeped into every corner of her skull.  
She stood at the back of the room, finally pausing, but purely out of shock from what she could see planted in the middle of the stage. Her hands had started shaking now. Adrenaline swarmed her and her head felt light. She had fallen into a haze.  
As her scattered breaths met the fowl air she started taking slow steps toward the stage. It was in that moment that she asked out loud, "why am I doing this?" The question left her mouth accompanied by tears, wasted. She had become a prisoner to her body. She was petrified.  
In the moment that she finally came close enough to the stage, walking up each step in shoes that weren't her own, she was completely exposed to the form before her.  
In an instance she lost the strength to stand and her stomach tried to bring up what food she had eaten that day. She cupped her hands over her mouth and let out a strangled cry as the reality of what lay before her truly sunk in. Someone had made a human body, a life, into an instrument. They had ripped apart their throat and shoved something inside them.  
She lost herself then. A slave to the image that bound her to her place on the floor. A slave to the smell that smothered her completely. A slave to fear.  
It wasn't until she was shaken from her place that she realised the small scratching at the back of her mind was actually the voice of Will Graham trying to pull her from her reverie. But she didn't see just Will Graham. She didn't see anyone. Not him, not the swarm of officers attempting to examine the crime scene. No. She only saw that body, lifeless before her. And so when Will touched her she screamed – a horrific bellow that echoed throughout the hall. Then she shoved Will away from her and jumped from the stage, _finally _gaining enough control of her limbs to run from such a gruesome sight.  
She burst through the doors, and rain was thrown against her body. She kept running. Her legs carried her as far as they could, through the thick sheen of rain. She needed to get far from this place. But then her body slammed into the chest of someone else. Their arms were quick to hold her shaking shoulders, and her name was uttered over and over again – pricking at her, asking her to look at them.  
"_Lilia."  
"Lilia."  
_Hands cupped her head gingerly and she felt a forehead meet her own.  
"Lilia. Calm yourself. Breathe, just breathe."  
She realised that she was mumbling something, a jumble of words pouring from her tormented mind.  
"I knew him. I knew him. I _knew _him."  
It was like the rain felt her discomfort, and it broke down from harsh pelts to a light drizzle that melted over her.  
"Look at me."  
That voice again, an anchor to reality, made her look. She realised the person holding her so closely, with a grip so delicate that she might just break was Hannibal Lecter.  
"You are ok Lilia." He said, voice soft, almost lulling the crackles of emotion inside her. She let out an excruciating breath, and it shook with the gravity of everything she felt. Then she lost consciousness.

**A/N: Sorry about how long it took me to post guys. I started writing a few chapters ahead of this one and got caught up in that instead of continuing the story. SILLY ME.  
I will try to stick to the general storyline but as I said in the beginning, I will adjust bits and pieces and hopefully you like it!  
Thanks for all the follows! I'd love your feedback or general comments if you have any!  
Thanks again! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A Slow Recovery**

Lilia woke up in her bed, covers tangled in her legs and her mind hazy. She blinked a few times, staring at the faint strands of dawn as they strayed through her window. Her body felt heavy. She pushed herself into a sitting position and tried to breathe the weight out of her lungs. She only felt heavier. There were noises from outside her room – a collection of voices muttering. She dragged her hands down her face then pulled herself from her bed and walked into the bathroom connected to her room so she could shower.  
It wasn't until she felt her body shivering profusely under the icy water that Lilia realised she had been in there for far too long. It was the echoes of Elyse's voice that pulled her mind back from the bloodied memory she had drifted to. Her mind didn't fully come back until she heard her tired voice replying to Elyse, "I'm ok, I'm finishing up now."  
So she picked her cold body from the shower floor and tried to let her broken mind dribble down the drain.  
"Are you feeling alright?"  
Lilia looked to Elyse, who sat next to her on her couch and she offered a smile, "I'm doing ok. And you really don't have to stay here with me. I'm not going to have some kind of psychotic break."  
Elyse's own smile was sympathetic, "I know I don't _have _to stay, but you really shouldn't be alone after what happened to you. I mean, do you want to talk about it? I can't imagine what you're feeling."  
Lilia knew her friend was just trying to comfort her, to watch out for her – she was concerned. But she couldn't answer her friend properly for she didn't even know _what _she was feeling. So she fumbled for words, mouthing the shapes of letters before saying, "I don't want to talk about it right now. But I promise I am going to be ok. You know me Elyse, and I would tell you if I needed to tell you something. But right now I'd just like to be on my own if you wouldn't mind."  
Elyse sighed and stared at Lilia, her brow contemplating the words, and then she nodded.  
"Alright, I'll let you be alone for a while. But PROMISE me you will call me if you need anything at all. And I'm going to text you throughout the day to make sure you're ok and you will let me know how you are."  
Lilia let out a small laugh, standing and walking Elyse to the door, "I promise I will reply."  
They hugged goodbye and then the soft sound of the door clicking shut emanated as Lilia leant against it.

"This always goes better if I'm perfectly honest with you," began Bedelia calmly,  
"What would the point be otherwise," returned Hannibal, hands folded neatly in his lap.  
"Well one of us has to be honest,"  
"I'm honest," voice calm. Articulate.  
"Not perfectly."  
"As honest as anyone," he iterated, a practiced expression of words.  
"Not really," she said, staring at Hannibal, gauging his every breath, "I have conversations with a version of you and hope that actual you gets what he needs."  
"A version of me?" he asked quietly, staring just past her face, as something very close to a scowl began forming on his own.  
"Naturally, I respect its meticulous construction," she paused and contemplated her words, "…but you are wearing a very well-tailored person suit."  
Hannibal tilted his head, "Do you refer to me as person suit with your psychiatrist friends?"  
"I don't discuss patients with my psychiatrist friends, especially since I only have one patient who chose to ignore my retirement."  
Hannibal inhaled, his hands making concentrated motions for a moment, "A patient who wears a person suit," he replied.  
"I can still see the shape of you, but you're elegantly obstructed. So really, it's less of a person suit and more of a human veil."  
For a brief second Hannibal closed his eyes then looked back to Bedelia, "I prefer to call it a human shield." And he meant it.  
She looked at him, her face moulding into a picture of pity and Hannibal did _not _need _**pity. **_Then she spoke again, "That must be lonely."  
"I have friends. And the opportunities for friends," his reply sharp, but not completely revealing of what he was feeling.  
Bedelia sat back, "Do your friends know the _real _you, Hannibal? Or do they just know a version of you that you allow them to know?" Bedelia wasn't sure if she was skimming the surface of Hannibal actually opening up to her, or skimming the surface of Hannibal's darker nature, where he would completely shut off from her. She waited.  
"They know me as well as they _try_ to know me." He said, shoulders shrugging slightly.  
So she asked, "And what of your opportunities for friends? Are you going to let them see a deeper version of you? The _real _Hannibal?"  
He stood from his chair, smiling a little and uttered, "Perhaps," then bid her goodbye and left.  
Bedelia thought over the session she'd had with Hannibal and tried to tell herself that she had come closer to knowing the true mind of Hannibal Lecter; but she knew she was very, very far away from it, and for some reason she felt better knowing that.

**OK DON'T HATE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE  
I KNOW THIS IS SOOOOO SHORT. SOSOSOSOSOSOSO SHORT. But it honestly looked longer when I got to this point, but then I scrolled up and it wasn't, but neither are my other chapters really…  
But I'm sorry, this chapter has just been annoying me sooo much because I didn't know how I wanted to start it or write it or BLEH. But it has happened, AND NOW I CAN FINALLY START WRITING THE GOOD THINGS.**

**SO PREPARE YOURSELVES.**

**AND REVIEW PLEASE OR FOLLOW. OR LOVE ME. EITHER WAY. DO IT.**


	8. Chapter 8

_A glowing light_

Will paced Hannibal's office frantically. His mind, plagued with thoughts, circled the events of their new serial killer.  
"Will, perhaps you should take a seat," said Hannibal as he looked across his office at his distraught patient.  
Will paused like a startled animal and looked back at him – he hadn't realised that his thoughts had carried him so far from the room. He sighed, "Maybe you're right."  
They sat across from each other, Wills brow furrowed, while Hannibal's passive expression mirrored him.  
"What is it that troubles you today, dear Will?"  
Will Graham took a very deep breath, he felt his lungs slowly expanding while the air entered his body and then he laughed.  
By now Hannibal was used to the unpredictable-ness of Detective Will Graham, but that didn't mean that he wasn't surprised by it.  
Will ran his fingers through his hair then let his tired eyes skim over Doctor Lecter's face; "Why must this world be such a devastating place? It just completely renders me helpless when I _see _every victim of murder, see their bodies cultivated to the horror of their maker and then know that I will be able to _understand _why their life was used to express the whims of those who hold darker natures."  
Hannibal felt a prick of emotion for poor Will, emotion he wasn't accustomed to feeling, then said, "Most would say your compassion is a gift, Will. Your uncanny ability to astutely comprehend the reason for every person's action – something that most of humankind long for over their entire existence."  
There was a calm, a moment where the streetlight flickered through the window and the sound of the traffic was soft white noise – a background; where Hannibal could see the beads of sweat that had started to form their sheen across Will's forehead, and lives had continued to move forward, a moment that suspended two men -  
"_**Long **__for?" _said Will, his voice beginning lightly, "They _long _to understand the thoughts of every human they come across? They _long _to understand why the rapist likes nine year old girls? They _long _to understand why their little brother became a serial murderer? They _long _to understand why the married husband and father kills girls the same age and appearance as his daughter?"  
A brief moment passed as Will was panting from his rushed string of sentences, "_They __**long **__to understand why the killer turned someone into an instrument?" _He shook his head and dragged his fingers down his face in angry red marks.  
_"_Do you know what I _long _for, Doctor Lecter?"  
"You long for silence."  
"I long for retribution," he spat, and Hannibal examined the frantic specimen before him, then realised that he could offer no comfort to this man before him, and so he picked at him instead,  
"What is it about this murder that has triggered these thoughts, Will?"  
Will left his seat and found himself pacing Hannibal's office again, then settled for leaning against the edge of Hannibal's desk.  
"…I'm not sure. It's just… Meeting that Peter's girl and knowing that her seeing that deformed body almost destroyed her mind…it just throws me. Every time we make progress a new killer appears, and they have all just been set into motion by the fucking Chesapeake Ripper! And I have to stand by and watch other lives be picked apart because thes-these _animals _are doing the bidding of their every goddamn whim!"  
"What if their whims control them?" Hannibal asked, "…what if they cannot help themselves?"  
"Then they need to be stronger. Taking a life, a human goddamn life, should not be something so casually ripped away because of a fucking whim, Doctor Lecter."  
Hannibal's eyes narrowed at the use of such foul language but he allowed it because he knew this subject was quite tender for Will.  
He stood from his chair and approached the unstable man, "Perhaps that is enough for tonight. It has gotten quite late."  
Will's eyes darted across Hannibal's face, never truly staying in one spot for too long and he nodded shakily, "you're right, I should go. Sorry to keep you so long Doctor Lecter."  
"Do not apologise, I will be happy as long as you go home and get rest."  
Will nodded, said goodbye and then left Hannibal's office.

It was around eight forty that night that Lilia's phone rang. She had been mindlessly letting her hands travel across the keys of her piano when she looked over at it buzzing on the edge of her side table.  
She picked it up slowly with the assumption that it was just Elyse checking on her again before she went to bed, but she didn't recognise the number.  
"Hello?" She said,  
"Hello, Miss Peter's, it's Doctor Lecter,"  
Lilia felt a warmth spread through her body from the sound of his voice, but her nerves sparked at the same time – why was he calling her? And how did he get her number?  
"O-Oh…hello," she said, picking at the corner of her notebook awkwardly.  
"I apologise if I have startled you. After the incident the other day I spoke with your friend, Elyse, and asked her for your contact information. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright after everything that occurred."  
Lilia stayed silent for a moment, then, "That's very sweet of you, Doctor Lecter. And thank you for checking up on me – I'm actually doing ok. Thank you again for calming me down when you did. I-I don't really remember much from that day, but I remember that you helped me."  
She heard him breath, "I am glad that I was there. And I am sorry that you had to see something so horrific. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
Lilia's hands began to shake as her mind started to drift back to the memory of the deformed body – one of the musicians she had accompanied many times at the auditorium – a memory she did not want to revisit if she didn't have to.  
"Would it be alright if we didn't talk about that? It's still hard for me and Detective Crawford still wishes to speak to me about it all." She felt rude saying it the way she had, but she had been avoiding thinking about what had happened at all and that seemed to work for her – she hoped he understood.  
"Of course, please accept my apologies, Miss Peter's. I will let you get your rest," he started, but before Lilia knew what was happening words fell from her mouth on impulse, "No, wait – don't go. I'd still like to talk to you."  
Lilia looked around her living room and shook her head in dismay at herself. She had always been articulate with her words, always able to control what she said…but she did feel unstable, her body capricious, and for some reason Hannibal calmed her.  
"What would you like to talk about?" He had asked her, sounding almost as though he were smiling.  
"I-I'm not sure," she said, exasperated.  
He chuckled, "What were you doing before I called you?"  
"I was just playing my keyboard, actually."  
"What were you playing?" He asked, intrigued,  
Lilia chewed her bottom lip, "It was nothing really…I was just playing how I felt."  
"Would you play for me over the phone?"  
She smiled a shy and innocent smile then, fingering some of the keys – "Sure, I'd love to."  
So Lilia Peter's played Hannibal Lecter every emotion that had been stored inside her since the incident, then after, he asked her to play something else and her private concert to him continued on until the latest of hours; where it seemed both of them had forgotten that time was a concept.

**A/N: It's getting closerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, THE FEELS ARE BEGINNING. THE FEELS ARE BEGINNING!  
3 thanks for all the follows my pretties! I WILL UPDATE SOON.**


	9. Chapter 9

_**The Fire And The Flame**_

The nights had grown colder over the past few days. On a particular night, snow had started to fall delicately from the sky and scatter across the ground. Although the air had a chilly bite to it, it was refreshing. Even in colder times Lilia found herself wearing dresses – the cold bite didn't affect her legs as much as her upper body, so usually she wore a warm coat over the top and was completely comfortable.  
Baltimore Art Museum was only a short walk from Lilia's house - she could have walked there but Elyse insisted that she picked her up on the way.  
The music was light and warm. It could be heard from just outside the museum, where Lilia, Elyse and Thomas, Elyse's boyfriend, walked to the entry.  
"Thanks for getting me out of the house," Lilia said softly to the both of them.  
"You are more than welcome, I'm glad you came with us," said Elyse, Thomas smiling in agreement, "we've missed you."  
Lilia let out a long breath as they walked in the door then said, "I've missed you both, too. It feels good to be here especially, art is good for the soul."

It had been nearing two weeks now, since the murder. Lilia had been feeling much better – she had stayed home for some time, recuperating, writing music and trying to heal. She felt conflicted about everything. She had essentially brought the situation on herself – and she still could not work out why she had walked into that building, _knowing _that something horrible had to be waiting for her on the other side of the door.  
The confliction wasn't just over her choice to walk in there, though. It was because she felt wrong for needing _time _to recover. She felt like she had no right to feel that way when she was the one with blood pumping through her veins and someone had their life ripped away from them in the most ruthless way.  
She tried not to think about it too often. But trying didn't always help.

It wasn't long before contagious smiles spread around the exhibition – and what an exhibition it was. Lilia felt in awe of some of the pieces that were on display, some of them incredibly controversial and confronting. That's what she liked about art.  
As she looked around the room her eyes landed on two familiar faces, Franklin and Tobias, Hannibal's friends.  
She wasn't exactly sure if they were Hannibal's friends, because Hannibal seemed constrained when talking to both Tobias and Franklin (the two times she had seen them interact), she thought it was perhaps because of Franklin's relation to Hannibal by being his patient; regardless, for now she would label them as his friends.  
She wasn't sure why, but she felt uneasy looking over at them. Something prickled upon her skin, a peculiar feeling, and she thought she had better look away from the two. But before she could, Franklin had spotted her and approached her with Tobias following calmly behind.  
"Hello! It's so good to see you again, Lilia isn't it?" Spouted Franklin excitedly,  
Lilia offered him a humble smile, "Yes, it is. It's nice to see you both again – how have you been?"  
"We've both been really, really good. I'm getting a lot better in my therapy at the moment too, thanks to Hannibal. Have you seen him here tonight?" Asked Franklin. Now that they were closer, Lilia could see the tension in Franklin's neck…and how the air around him was static.  
She shook her head, "No, was he supposed to be here?"  
Tobias stepped closer, involving himself in the conversation, "Franklin thought that Doctor Lecter would be attending tonight because they_ like the same things_."  
Franklin's face twitched in agitation, "We do _like _the same things. He appreciates art and music – just like me! I truly thought he would have been here tonight."  
"He was probably busy with a patient – you are not his only _patient, _Franklin." The chastising tone was not unnoticed and left a sting in the air.  
Luckily Elyse and Thomas had made their way over as they could see how uncomfortable Lilia was becoming, and so they interrupted.  
"Are you ready to leave, Lilia? Sorry to interrupt you, but Thomas and I are ready to go now." Elyse acknowledged Franklin and Tobias with a smile and then pulled on Lilia's arm.  
"It was nice to see you both again, please excuse me, I have to get going."  
Franklin smiled a very frantic smile at her while Tobias merely nodded goodbye to her.  
"Who were they?" Asked Thomas as they walked back to him.  
"I met them at one of my shows – and they're kind of friends with Doctor Lecter as well."  
"Oh, ok. They seem odd," said Elyse, as they all headed toward the exit,  
"Yeah…they're nice people, but I just feel so strange when I talk to them. I honestly feel like Tobias really doesn't like me, and Franklin just always seems so…frazzled?"  
"What do you mean," asked Elyse.  
"Well, I think he has an obsessive nature. And at the moment I think he is very, very obsessed with Doctor Lecter. I remember in one of my psychology lectures they mentioned that it is very common for patients to form attachments to their doctors. Even the obsessive, unhealthy kind."  
"Oh – that's weird. Well, lucky you had us there to rescue you from them," Elyse chuckled, Thomas patting her back in mutual laughter.  
Lilia smiled slightly at them, but still felt bad for making light of them – they had never actually done anything to her, and she wasn't even sure about Franklin, so she decided not to laugh.  
They walked to the car, talking casually about the artworks that they had seen and how the night had turned out (the temperature dropping by the minute.)  
"Hey, I think I'd like to walk back to my house, if that's ok with you guys." She said, looking out at the snow.  
Elyse and Thomas shared a look – "Lil…are you sure? I don't think it's very safe to be walking on your own, especially with everything that has been going on around here," replied Elyse, voice wavering on worried.  
Lilia offered them both a confident smile, gesturing to the people walking on the streets – "Look around, you two. There are plenty of people walking around, some of whom we have just seen inside, and I live just down the road. I promise I'll keep my phone in my hand and ready to let you know that I'm ok as soon as I walk in the door."  
Elyse and Thomas knew that the only option for them was to concede.  
"Ok. Please be careful," said Thomas.  
Lila nodded at them and shuffled her jacket around her tighter before bidding them goodbye and turning to make her way home.

Lilia loved the cold. There was something about the icy chill in the air that made her skin tingle with awareness; like the surface of her body was trembling in excitement at the chill.  
She mulled more over it while crossing the road and watching the few cars that were out pass her by.  
In the distance she could see her apartment building, happy that she was nearly home. The walk was peaceful and it was something she needed…it had helped her clear her mind a little more.  
Apparently clearing her mind wasn't always a good thing. Especially at that particular moment where she neared the front of her apartment building. She wasn't sure how it happened exactly. Perhaps the small moment of peace she felt had left her vulnerable. Usually she was always on guard, always _aware.  
_Regardless, her mind was frayed as she felt herself falling straight for the concrete. She was walking…and then she wasn't.  
Before the loud thud of her body hitting the ground could be heard, she cussed, "Shit!"  
Usually Lilia held back any form of words that could be offensive. She didn't like to swear. But she found she did not care at that moment. Her arms hit the ground first, taking the brunt of the fall, but not before she scraped leg on a shard of glass.  
For a moment she laid there and just let the pain sink in. As she started to scramble to get up, groaning when she felt some blood drip from just above her knee, the doors of the building opened.  
"Lilia!"  
Hands were suddenly on her arms, "What happened?"  
She turned her head, and laughed – it was supposed to be light hearted but it came out bitter.  
"I fell…" She said, and looked up to the concerned face of Hannibal Lecter. He helped her to her feet and looked her up and down, hands still pressed lightly on her shoulders, "Allow me to help you to your home," he uttered, turning and guiding her to the door.  
"That would be nice, thank you."

They made it up to her door, silence had surrounded them on the way up. Lilia turned to Hannibal, pausing when they made eye contact and finding it hard to speak. When she remembered how to speak her words were cut short by a hiss that fell from her lips.  
"Are you alright?" Asked Hannibal, before he straightened and his expression changed for a moment, but Lilia was too busy lifting the end of her skirt slightly to see that where the glass had cut her. The blood trickled down her leg and over her knee.  
"If you would allow me to, I can help."  
She let go of the dress and looked back to him, "I think I would like that."  
So she got her key from her bag and unlocked her door and then switched the light on.  
"Do you have any medical supplies here?" He asked as he followed her into the apartment.  
Lilia placed her bag on her dining table, "Yes, there should be one in my bathroom cupboard." She replied.  
She started to make her way to her bathroom but Hannibal placed a hand on her shoulder, "I think perhaps you should take a seat and let me get it. If that is alright with you, of course."  
Lilia let out a long breath, relaxing herself, "Thank you. It should be in the cupboard above the sink. It's a light green bag."  
Hannibal nodded to her and she took a seat on the couch, "The bathroom is through my bedroom door, over there," she gestured, "just on the left."

When he returned with the kit Lilia had taken off her overcoat and now sat in her plain black dress. Hannibal noticed that she had scrapes and cuts on her hands too – something he would have to take care of as well. He sat down next to her.  
Lilia watched him as he methodically opened the pack and placed the gauzes, disinfectant and cloths out on the coffee table. It was quite a bewitching process to watch, she mused.  
"That's right," she began, continuing to watch him, "You used to be a doctor, didn't you?"  
He smirked, finishing his final touches on the placement of everything, "Something like that, Miss Peter's."  
He looked back up to her and smiled, "May I?" He asked, reaching for one of her hands. She nodded and he lifted one delicately while brining it closer so he could clean it.  
As he held her hand and began to clean the small scrapes, she felt a peculiar sensation run through her body. His touch was so warm and light; and something about it had her breath hitching while she watched him intently.  
"Were you having a nice evening before this happened?" He asked, still keeping his attention on the wounded hands.  
"Yes, actually. I went to the exhibition that's currently showing at the Baltimore Art Centre. It was lovely."  
"oh? – I had intended on seeing that myself, but unfortunately I had some business to attend to."  
"You should try to go while it's still in town. I think you'd enjoy it."  
"Then I shall endeavour to visit it as soon as I can." He replied smoothly, smiling at her then returning to the other hand to tend.  
"Franklin was upset that you hadn't attended. He and his friend, Tobias, were both there tonight."  
She noticed the minimal pause in his movements when she said Franklin's name,  
but it was only for half a second and he carried on as though he hadn't reacted at all.

When he finished with her hands he looked up to her, let out a breath and said "You really did have quite a fall."  
She let out a polite laugh, "I did. I was distracted. I really do appreciate you doing this for me though, I hope I'm not inconveniencing you."  
He began adding disinfectant to a cloth, then smiled at her – it was an incredibly charming smile and Lilia felt it melt over her like warm sunlight – "I don't think you could ever inconvenience me, _Lilia."  
_Her cheeks warmed and she looked down shyly.  
"I'm going to have a look at the cut on your leg now, is that alright?"  
"Yes," she said softly, feeling her body temperature climbing by the second.

The next few moments passed by _slowly. _The tick of the clock on the wall by the front door could be heard as rhythmically as the air she breathed. _Tick. Tick. Tick.  
_He gently pushed the edge of her dress about half way up her thigh, then collected a cloth and examined the wound.  
There was still a trail of dried blood from where the wound first opened and he wiped at it before cleaning closest to the cut.  
Lilia closed her eyes as a sharp sting stirred around the cut, where the skin was still tender and raw.  
"Sorry," he whispered, "I'm not hurting you too much, am I?"  
Lilia heard the words, heard the concern in his voice – but she _felt _it too. His thumb, further away from the cut now, ran back and forth across her skin. She wasn't sure if he knew that he had done it. It had only lasted for a few moments. But Lilia couldn't doubt the tremor of electricity that streamed up through her body from where he touched and still silence was the only thing she was capable of.  
"Lilia?" He questioned, ducking his head to meet her gaze, and she wasn't sure if it was just her but his pupils seemed to be dilated - and she thought that maybe he felt the electricity too.  
"S-Sorry, its fine. I'm fine."  
He nodded then applied a small amount of pressure to the wound before cleaning it with the disinfectant.  
There was still some dried blood surrounding it, so he softly wiped around the area too, noticing that there was still some going underneath where he had pushed the edge of her dress up to.

Hannibal was hesitant as his hand reached for the dress again. But he observed that her breath had hitched once more, and noticed how her _smell, _her unique, intricate, _delicious_,smell had intensified the moment that his hand touched her skin.  
She watched as his gaze travelled up her body, as his movements became so precisely slow, and chewed at her lip.  
He held her gaze now. Ferociously. And let his whole hand flatten on her thigh as it pushed the dress further up.  
_God, _her body was rendered completely useless. All she could do was feel. This time the electricity was overwhelming – she knew she was staring at him, her eyes raw with emotion, with _lust_. He must have seen it because he dragged his tongue across his lip and closed his eyes as though he were savouring something.  
Then Lilia felt his hand begin to retract, and he opened his eyes before clearing his throat, "I think…it is time for me to leave."  
Lilia finally had the will to rip her eyes away from him and she pulled her dress back down slowly, "O-Of course. Thank you so much for helping me."  
Hannibal stood and walked to the door; Lilia following him closely. She was completely mortified that she had even let her body react the way it had, but she kept silent as she edged past him and unlocked the door.  
She thought he was just going to walk out without saying goodbye, but he paused in the door frame where she could still feel the heat from his body emanate.  
He turned, his face quite close to hers, "I am sorry that I can't stay any longer. I just remembered that Will was waiting on my call this evening. But I am _glad _to have seen you again – regardless of the circumstances."  
She stuttered for words, "Thank you," she breathed and calmed herself, "I am grateful that you were out there when you were." Then she watched him leave and closed the door softly after him.  
Her legs trembled as she slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Everything felt numb yet charged at the same time. She held her head in her hands, flashing back to the feeling of his hand on her thigh and sighed at herself.  
"What am I getting myself into?"

**A/N: Finally it has arrived. I apologise for the million years it takes me to write a chapter but I DID IT! I know that this chapter drags on a bit – I really had to force myself to write it because I was sick of writing NOTHING. I hope you enjoyed it anyway, and thank you all for your lovely reviews! **


	10. Chapter 10

_**Embers**_

A hollow form stood alone in an open field. The morning light was beginning to cradle the frame in its warmth. It didn't look like it had been there long…still dripping with the crimson remnants of life.  
As the wind brushed across the field, it brought a light whistling sound with it. Almost like an instrument was humming slightly over the air. That's how it was discovered. A man on a morning run through the reserve near the edge of Baltimore Park, had stumbled upon it.  
They had an ID on the body. Graham Walker. Nothing incredibly special about him. He wasn't a musician, and he didn't seem to have any associations with their last cases.  
That's why Will Graham had been brought to the scene. To _see _if there were any associations. His mind was reeling and it had been more so lately. All of the deaths surrounding this new killer seemed so…inspired, so planned – a message, for someone, but he wasn't sure _who.  
_Will let his mind drift into the abyss as Jack cleared the field of other officers.  
Before him, the body began to unwind itself. First the flute like cylinders, which must have been making the whistling noise, fell from the body leaving chasms in the torso. The legs, which had been stripped of skin, with cello strings wrapped neatly around them, unbound themselves and coiled on the ground. Will walked around the body. Now in its full glory. An innocent man. Someone who did not particularly announce a dominance about him.

"You are pathetic," spat Will, feeling the darkness growing inside of him. He circled it again, almost spitting at the disgusting form.  
"Your existence is nothing to me. Nothing to anyone. Therefore, you must become _something. _You needed to become _something. _That is why I have made you this."  
His hands caressed the lifeless form where blood dribbled from torso to hip and he laughed.  
"You will play my melody," he said and then placed the flute pieces intricately into the torso.

"Will!"  
"Will!" Jack bellowed into Will's ear as he threw him from the murder victim's body. In his trance, Will had actually began touching the body, moving the pieces of the flute without actually realising it. It wasn't until Jack saw Will's hand purely inside one of the cavities that he realised what was going on and tried to get Will to snap out of it. When that didn't work he had to use force. He felt regret as he watched Will Graham fall to pieces on the ground before him. He had his head in his hands, smearing blood over his face while he shook.  
"W-What happened?" He asked in a tremor.  
Jack just looked down at him sadly, then motioned for Hannibal to come back to the scene to help Will.  
"You just got a little carried away, Will. Can you tell me what you saw?"  
Hannibal had found his way to Will's side, kneeling and placing his hand on Will's back. His laboured breaths continued, "He was a victim because the murderer thought of him as nothing. Graham Walker had to be nothing. His life meant nothing. This killer made him something, _Jack._"

"Perhaps we should let Will rest, Jack. He is not himself," said Hannibal, pulling Will to his feet.  
Jack nodded and walked over to the forensics team to give them the OK to get back to their analysis.

Lilia relaxed back into the inviting water. Her body praised her as her muscles began to release all of their tension. It had been an intense few weeks. She had finally finished her midterm exams, hoping, _praying _that she had studied hard enough for a good mark.  
She let out a long breath. Her phone played Debussy's Claire Delune, one of her favourite pieces. She smiled as she watched the bubbles dissolving from the edge of her toes where her feet sat on the edge of the bathtub.  
Her mind drifted to the show she would be playing at the auditorium tomorrow night. The Baltimore Music association had decided to throw a ball at the Auditorium and Lilia had been chosen as a solo performer for it. It had been quite some time since she had given a performance there, with everything that had been going on. She sifted through some of her recent compositions in her mind – not sure which one she could play. It had been hard for her to write with everything that had been unravelling her being. Though; it was usually easier for her to write through all of the constriction. She had been finding it hard to place her emotions in her notes…and she thought that it was perhaps because she did not even know what it was she was feeling. That was of course in regards to Hannibal Lecter. They had been becoming closer more recently…not in the romantic sense, she mused, but forming a friendship. Hannibal had been away working with Will and Mr Crawford on the serial killer that was on the loose at the moment but had still managed to call her or send her a text message every now and then to see how she was going.  
Lilia smiled in memory of the conversations that they had been having. Some about music, or about life; where he would begin to analyse her and unravel some of her thoughts, then she would remind him that she was not his patient and they would share laughter.  
She lifted herself slightly from the tub to reach her wine glass and take a small sip. Then as though someone had heard her thoughts, her phone buzzed through the end of the Debussy piece and she looked over to it to find that Hannibal had sent her a text message:

**Hannibal: **_What are you doing this evening?_

Lilia read the message out loud, blushing when she looked down at herself. She wasn't sure if it was the wine that gave her the sudden confidence, but she decided that she would tell him the truth.

**Lilia: **_Well, I'm currently in relaxing in the bath with a nice glass of wine, listening to Debussy._

**Hannibal: **_I apologise for interrupting you at such a time. Perhaps we can talk later? _

"Of course he would be a gentleman about it," she thought frustratingly, leaning further out of the tub to quickly tap a reply.

**Lilia: **_No, I don't mind. How are you?_

**Hannibal: **_I am good. It has been a long, unfortunate day. _

**Lilia: **_You should try having a bath. It definitely relaxes the muscles. _

**Hannibal: **_Perhaps you are right_.

**Lilia: **_Hannibal Lecter having a bath? It sounds so absurd. _

**Hannibal: **_What is so absurd about such a notion? _

**Hannibal: **_I'm running the water now. _

Lilia laughed out loud – it came out sounding as though her nerves were bubbling out of her throat. She wasn't sure exactly what was happening, nor could she wrap her mind around it. Was Hannibal Lecter about to be naked at the same time as her?  
Her cheeks grew even warmer as her thoughts began to wonder what he would look like, but she quickly stopped herself before her mind drifted too far.  
Lilia turned the faucet that said 'hot' so that she could feel the warmth tingle across her skin again and then turned her attention back to her phone while the water ran.

**Lilia: **_You're the poised, articulate and proper, Hannibal Lecter. It just seems strange to me. _

She read over her words again. "It definitely must be the wine, I'm not normally so openly playful with him," she thought.

**Lilia: **_Sorry, I'm not offending you, am I? _

**Hannibal: **_Not at all. Poised? _

**Lilia: **_You are. _

**Hannibal: **_Thank you. Are you still listening to Debussy? _

**Lilia: **_Bach, now. Will you tell me why you had an unfortunate day? _

**Hannibal: **_I would not wish to bore you. Another case found this morning, it was hard on Will. _

**Lilia: **_I'm sorry to hear that. _

**Lilia: **_…and I don't find a single thing about you boring, Hannibal. _

**Hannibal: **_I am glad. I am finding that you are anything but boring. What will you be playing this weekend?_

**Lilia: **_To be honest…I don't know. I have found it hard to write anything of meaning recently – having trouble with inspiration. _

**Hannibal: **_Such a shame. I do hope you find something worth inspiring you as I find myself excited to hear you play again. You have a gift. _

**Lilia: **_Thank you. _

**Lilia: **_Are you enjoying your bath? _

**Hannibal: **_I am enjoying it more talking to you. _

Lilia's breath hitched and her skin prickled intensely as she read over the words. Sometimes it was the little things that he said that made her remember why she was so drawn to him. She turned the faucet off again before she scrolled over their conversation and marvelled at her openness. And if anyone else looked over it they would probably consider it common conversation – but for Lilia…Well, Lilia felt fire. Fire flowing through the words she sent to him, and fire in his replies. She thought that maybe he had picked up on her playfulness and was playing along, trying to spark her to say something _more. _Then her phone buzzed in her hand again. She looked down.

**Hannibal: **_I am also finding it very hard to control my thoughts, Miss Peters._

Lilia read over the words once. Then again. And again. She felt the fire spread through her being because all she knew in that moment was excitement. She didn't know how to reply. So she set her phone down and picked up her glass and took a long draw of the red liquid. Carefully, she placed it back on the counter and picked her phone back up with a shake-y hand. Lilia closed her eyes and wrote her reply as quick as possible, so that it wasn't tainted by her reasoning. She pushed send.

**Lilia: **_What type of thoughts would they be, Doctor Lecter?_

There were only a few beats of her heart before a reply appeared.

**Hannibal: **_They are thoughts that tell me to wonder what you must look like without your lovely clothes._

Lilia's next reply was frantic and escaped her before she had time to read over it.

**Lilia: **_…And the other thoughts? What else do you wonder? _

**Hannibal: **_I wonder what you might taste like. _

Lilia's breath caught. Never in her life had she had such a conversation with someone, (not someone that wasn't already a partner).  
Her thoughts were heavy as she watched her fingers type the next reply.

**Lilia: **_I find myself wondering the same thing. _

"Oh my god," she said, placing the phone back down and splashing some of the water back onto her face. She had to calm herself down. That was enough. She thought that by now, Hannibal must have a very bad opinion of her. She felt like she was practically throwing herself at him. Though, she wasn't, she still felt very embarrassed.  
Her phone buzzed again and she turned her head, chewing on her lip while she looked at it sitting in its place on the counter. She mulled over it for a few more seconds – brow furrowed in thought, and then she gingerly reached for it.

**Hannibal: **_I believe it is time that I said goodbye, Miss Peters. I do hope that you find some inspiration before your performance. _

She released the breath she had been holding.

**Lilia: **_I enjoyed tonight. _

She didn't realise she had written that. Then:

**Lilia: **_I think I have found something to draw on. Goodnight, Hannibal. _

**Hannibal: **_Goodnight, Lilia. _

A very beautiful smile spread across Lilia's face. It was happiness, it was nervousness, it was embarrassment and it was inspiration. Her mind rushed over everything they had spoken about, and her body thrummed with excitement. She pulled her pruning body from the bathtub, something she was sure Hannibal would not have liked to see, and began to dry herself with a towel.  
It felt like it was only seconds that had passed by, but she found herself at her keyboard, her fingers roaming each key; searching for the story they wanted to tell. And the story fell from her fingers so freely that she had trouble keeping up. She had trouble remembering exactly where her fingers were going and what notes they were playing because they were leaving fire behind. Luckily she had started her recorder on her phone, so she was catching every moment of it. What a moment it was.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey everyone, sorry again for the longest gap with updating! I'm really sorry about the jumpiness of this chapter, I kind of just kept writing myself into circles so ended up going with this.**

**The song that Lilia plays (we will pretend she wrote it) is called Opus 54 by Dustin O'halloran if anyone wants to listen while reading**

**Annnnnd the song in the dance is Can't Help Falling In Love, the Ingrid Michaelson version – I didn't specify what the song was in the chapter because I like it better that way**

**ANYWAY HOPE YOU ENJOY THANKS FOR FOLLOWING AND STICKING WITH THIS STORY IF YOU'RE STILL HERE :D YAYYYYY**

**PS: Sorry about the format, my program that I write on keeps malfunctioning when I upload :D **

_** Intoxication**_

Lilia let out a shaky breath as she eyed herself in the mirror. She had chosen a deep red gown that draped just off her shoulders, leaving a soft dip to her neckline – modest, yet provocative. It came in at the waist then opened up just over her hips. It was elegantly bold…for someone like Lilia anyway. Her skin was illuminated in its glowing porcelain glory by the crimson red that adorned her skin.  
She tried to offer herself a smile while she let out another long breath, smoothing her hands over her hair that she had curled back and clipped into a bun.  
Tonight she would be playing for more people than she had ever played for, and her nerves were trying to flee her body.

"Hey, don't pull that face!"

Lilia turned to the door at the end of the dressing room and relief flooded her -  
"Elyse, you made it!" She exclaimed, walking toward her and encircling her in a tight hug.  
"I wouldn't have missed this! You look absolutely incredible, by the way," marvelled Elyse as she stepped back to examine Lilia's appearance.  
"Turn for me please," she requested, though it sounded more like a command, but Lilia obeyed and turned around for her.  
"Very daring," began Elyse, and they both laughed, "I like it!"  
"You look really beautiful too, El," she said, smiling at her friend.  
Elyse curtsied in response, sending them both into giggles as they walked to the small faded black sofa in the corner of the dressing room.  
"You nervous?" asked Elyse as they sat down.  
"Yes. I have never played a song like this publicly before."  
"What do you mean? Not to be rude…but don't they all kind of sound the same?"  
Lilia laughed at her, but ended the laugh with a long sigh, "Not always. Sometimes yes, I know what you're getting at – they do sound the same because a lot of my songs are written with the same feeling behind them; but this one is different."  
"oh," started Elyse, eyeing Lilia, "How so?"  
Lilia fiddled with her thumbs, "Well…I think it's different because when I wrote it I was feeling a _fire _that I've never _felt _before. It was like it consumed me and I wasn't allowed to stop playing until every note had its say."  
Elyse hummed, "You sound like a movie."  
They both burst out laughing before falling into a silence again.  
"So what was different this time when you were writing? What inspired you?" Asked Elyse and Lilia's mouth twitched at the question, and she tried to keep her expression straight, but a smile was trying to break free.  
"Wait, wait, wait – I know that look. _Lilia Peters _tell me right now _who _inspired you!"  
Lilia's smile broke free, and she was thoughtful for a moment; "It was Doctor Lecter."  
Elyse stood up abruptly, "What! As in the Doctor Lecter from the University? The one that's all proper and charming and … kind of old?"  
Lilia smirked and rested her chin in her hand, leaning on it and looking up to Elyse, "Yes it is Doctor Lecter, the proper, charming and I don't care about his age," she knew Elyse hadn't been serious about the age jab, but she continued, "but I'm just drawn to him Elyse. There is just something about him that completely overwhelms me."  
"So you wrote a piano piece about it?"  
"Well…about something we spoke about last night," replied Lilia, sheepish with her replies because they were skirting a more intense conversation now, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to reveal completely to Elyse everything that her and Hannibal had talked about.  
"Wait – you were talking to him last night? Lilia! Were you guys – "  
"No- no, no –" interrupted Lilia quickly, her face flushing, "we were JUST talking. Yes it was a little intimate, but that is ALL I am telling you."  
"But Lil," whined Elyse, pulling on her arm, "you have to tell me – I want to know everything!"  
"Everything can wait, because I have ten minutes before I have to perform, and I am still nervous, and I have to get back stage!"  
Elyse sighed, resigning to Lilia's tone because ultimately she knew her friend would tell her everything once she was ready to.  
"Ok – break a leg!" said Elyse excitedly and then left the room.

Lilia looked out at the crowd of people from behind the curtain and felt her throat close up and her pulse quicken. There were so many people out there. For a moment, she mused over the extravagant decorations they had placed around the auditorium. The organisers had actually outdone themselves this year. There were round tables situated around the room, with plenty of people at each, and a dance floor closest to the stage – she hadn't realised how big the room was. But now, looking out at the hundreds of people before her, she felt the brevity of the moment.  
As she examined the crowd, she found Elyse and Thomas with their friends at a table, just to the left of the stage, and it helped to calm her slightly; but evidently not enough as she looked down at her shaking hands.

"Oh gosh," she uttered to herself.

"Are you nervous?"

Lilia felt a chill shudder across her skin and she jumped in fright, turning to face the voice. She found Hannibal Lecter standing there, completely handsome in his dark grey suit and navy blue tie, and completely drowning her in his gaze.  
"O-Oh, Hannibal, you frightened me!" she sputtered, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment over her jumpiness.  
"My apologies, that was not my intention," his words were like silk that spread over her and she smiled at him.  
"No it's alright, I just wasn't expecting anyone to be back here."  
"I saw how nervous you looked and so I thought I had better come and tell you that you shouldn't be."  
She crossed her arms over herself defensively, "That is a lot easier said than done, Doctor Lecter," her tone chastising.  
"That may be so Miss Peters, but it does not change the fact that you should not let yourself feel nervous."  
She sighed, playfulness lost, because even though he quelled some of her nerves, they were still erratic inside her and she was worried that she would make a mistake while playing – something she had never done, or been worried about before.  
"I can't help it," she said quietly looking down.  
"Will you do something for me?" he asked softly.  
She tilted her head up to meet his gaze and nodded, "Yes."  
"Close your eyes,"  
She obeyed and let her eyes fall shut before him – still feeling his closeness.  
"Good, just relax."  
He placed his hands on her shoulders, and lightly let his fingers run soothing circles on her skin before saying, "Take a deep breath then let it out slowly."  
She did and tried to focus on the pull of his voice. Another few breaths, "Good," he said, and lightly let his fingers trail off her shoulders, then stepping around her, "Just hear my voice, _feel _it."  
She held on to every word.  
He stopped behind her, heat emanated from him and everything that was him wrapped around her.  
"Breathe," he said, "Now think about what inspired your composition."  
She felt her heart jolt at his words and a different form of nerves erupted within her.  
She took another breath.  
Then his hands, feather light, drizzled up and over her own hands as he pressed himself into her back, "remember the moment that the first note left your hands last night."  
His breath skirted her neck and Lilia had to stop herself from craning it so she could _feel _his lips against her skin. She felt the flames pooling in her stomach; where they had been stowed away behind her nerves before; but given life by Hannibal's voice, Hannibal's _touch. _  
She felt him inch closer and her breath hitched as he spoke into her ear, "Remember what started the fire - _remember_ the moment you felt the inspiration ignite within you,"  
Then she knew that he knew. How could he not have known? But he _knew _that every piece of the composition she was about to play was because of him. It was all an effect of what he did to her. He knew and he was reminding her.  
"Can you feel it?"  
She thought it was such a ridiculous question. Her whole body felt it. It spread to every extremity, wanting to engulf everything that she was and greedily taking hostage of her body. Of course she felt it.  
She nodded shakily and felt his breath escape him behind her.  
"Then it's time you showed the audience."  
At first she didn't hear the words properly. She was still trapped in the feeling of his breath warm and light across her skin, and the way his cologne invaded her space – completely tantalising to her. But then she realised the warmth was gone and another voice came from the stage, "Please welcome Miss Lilia Peters, of Baltimore Music Society, to play one of her original pieces."  
And like that Lilia found her legs carrying her to the piano, her nerves faded into the past now, and a fire bursting at her fingertips.

When Hannibal had first glanced at Lilia; so meek and nervous peeking out from behind the curtain, from his place in the crowd, he was taken by her delicate, yet completely enticing form and he rapaciously took in her form.  
Red. Such a daring colour, and so completely stunning on her creamy white skin he had to swallow back the groan that sat in his throat. He noted how the light touches of makeup complimented every aspect of her rounded cheekbones and her sharp, intoxicating eyes.  
Now he sat at his table with Will Graham, Jack Crawford, and Alana Bloom; all waiting with baited breath for the performance Lilia was about to give.  
She didn't look nervous anymore. Hannibal's lips twitched with confidence – it was he who had set her alight. Now…_now _he hoped he had inspired something wonderful.  
The next few minutes were incredible in their intensity. Lilia looked out over the crowd – smiling at some of the people, then letting her eyes linger on Hannibal. He revelled in what he could see behind her eyes.  
Then, so completely sudden, the melody erupted from her fingers in fast rhythmic strokes. It was like watching someone come apart, with every piece of themselves laced through the notes. She swayed with every stroke of key, a rapture so entrancing that Hannibal's mouth parted at the beauty of it. He felt it all melt over him and erode the layers of his skin – knowing him. The rest of the audience had become much the same; slaves to her music.  
But as Hannibal tore his eyes away from her beauty, to look at the rest of them, he knew that they didn't understand. They could not feel it the way that he could. He felt the hair on the back of his neck tingle as the notes became bolder and louder, and he looked back at her in all of her glory. It was indescribable to him.  
The rush of ecstasy that flooded him as she threw her head back, completely immersed in the melody, made him close his eyes in savour. Such decadence before him and he was truly grateful. The song ended and Lilia's hands hovered above the keys, where she felt the lasting embers from the flames leave her fingertips. She was breathing heavily – still in a trance – but then the applause erupted throughout the room; bringing her mind back, and she stood from her place to face the audience with a smile.

"That was wonderful!" Exclaimed the MC while taking her hand, "Wasn't it everyone?"

A loud applause emitted again, and then cheers could be heard amongst them – some of which Lilia was sure was from Elyse's table. She took a bow and exited the stage – smiling at the next band that was due to play for the rest of the evening.

Lilia returned to her dressing room, still ecstatic from the performance. She could hear the thrum of music through the walls and smiled to herself. She walked back to the mirror to make sure everything was in place, and to put her masquerade mask on – it was the same deep red as her dress, outlined with small round crystals that sparkled under the light. She wondered if Hannibal had brought a mask because he hadn't been wearing one when he had approached her before, she didn't linger on the thought for long.  
She left the dressing room excited to spend the rest of the night enjoying herself.

"I saw the way you were looking at her, Hannibal," Will said softly so that the others didn't hear.

Hannibal hummed in thought, not looking at Will, but at the band on the stage.

"And what was it that you saw, Will?"

"Like something you want to consume and have as part of you."

Hannibal laughed and looked to Will, "That is quite an observation you've made."

"Well, it's obvious," said Will, a cheeky grin at the corner of his mouth.

Hannibal nodded, "Only to those with a mind such as yours, Will."

"So you like her," Will said, disregarding Hannibal's comment.

"I can assure you, I definitely do not _dislike _her," replied Hannibal softly, while his eyes followed Lilia as she walked across the hall and to her friends table.

"You were amazing!" Said Elyse excitedly as she stood and hugged Lilia.

"Thank you," Lilia said as she took a seat at the table, smiling while the rest of them congratulated her on her performance.

"So now I know what you meant about it being different," started Elyse, taking her seat next to Lilia, "Doctor Lecter, by the way, did not take his eyes off you for the entire performance."  
Lilia felt her cheeks warm at the thought of him.

"Speaking of the handsomely masked man," said Elyse, smirking as she watched Lilia's body twitch in excitement.

"May I have this dance, Miss Peters?" His voice asked from behind her.

She turned to face him, bewildered by his question. No one had asked her to dance since high school. She noticed that he wore a plain black mask, that only made him look more enticing, and he looked at her expectantly, then slowly took her hand in his, "Would you do me the honour madame?"  
Lilia smiled, shy and sweet, "I would love to."  
They both headed toward the dance floor, lucky enough to receive a new song for them to dance to.

They both stood before each other, preparing for the music to begin. He took her hand in his, and let his other slide around her waist, all the while never breaking his gaze from hers. She felt electric under his eyes.  
_Then _the first few introduction bars hummed over them, and Lilia couldn't believe how relevant, and so completely cliché it all was; but regardless it made everything feel _right. _  
Hannibal had noticed the flicker in her eyes when the song had started, "Do you know this song?" He asked.  
She nodded, feeling intoxicated by the moment like she was being pulled into slow motion, "I just haven't heard it in a while," she said softly.  
"Ah," uttered Hannibal and they started to sway lightly with the music.

"You were radiant up there."

"Thank you, Hannibal. And thank you for … before."

He smiled at her, partially revealing some of his crooked teeth, "It is I who should be thanking you for such a memorable evening."  
Her head tilted down shyly, "You flatter me, Hannibal."  
He pulled her closer and her arms circled around his neck, while both of his smoothed down to hang just above her waist, "I tell _truth._"  
It was such a short answer, it felt abrupt to her, but like a hook that pulled her head back up to meet his gaze. There she stayed, trapped in his eyes, succumbing to him.  
She hadn't noticed the song coming to an end because she had been concentrating on trying to make herself _say _something.  
"I believe that was the end of the song, Lilia," said Hannibal quietly.  
She was still staring at him, and then sputtered over words for a moment, "O-Oh, s-sorry!"  
Hannibal ran his hand down her arm and took her hand in his once again, her arm tingling the entire way down, "I'm afraid as much as I would like to spend the evening dancing with you, I must actually take my leave now."  
Lilia felt her stomach drop. It was the sinking feeling of disappointment; perhaps if she were another girl she would have kissed him then and there – a fleeting goodbye, because she knew she _wanted _to._ God, _she wanted to. But something was holding her back. Something was always holding her back. She tried to squish the feeling down, "Thank you for the dance, and for calming my nerves earlier. I don't know what would have happened if you weren't here,"  
"Forgive me," he interjected, his accent thick and light as it fell from his tongue, "I do not wish to leave right now, but I must."  
"Please don't worry," she started, feeling horrible for wanting him to stay, considering he was probably leaving for a patient, "you have responsibilities, Hannibal. It was lovely seeing you again."  
Hannibal smiled, "It was a privilege – I hope I will see you soon, Lilia."  
She watched his retreating back, somehow frozen on the dancefloor amongst the other people, and watched as he bid goodbye to his friends before walking out the auditorium doors.  
There had been something about the way that he had said her name; something about the way he _always_ said her name – it was always left ringing in her mind, over and over like a mantra.  
Something that had never happened to Lilia before, happened then. A spark of something jolted her into a run, and the next thing she knew, she was running out the auditorium doors to catch Hannibal. She didn't know why exactly she was doing it, but her legs had taken her from the room with no hesitation or reason to thought.  
She ran out into the open foyer but it was barren with no life. So she went through the centre doors, and out into the street, where the icy air nipped at her skin. She spotted him walking toward his car that was parked on the side of the street, and ran after him, "Hannibal!" She called, running toward him. He turned around upon hearing his name, and stopped as she came toward him.  
When Lilia reached him she was breathing heavily, not just from running but from her own madness. Her mind was frantic and unpredictable.

_Then_

She stepped forward slowly, all of the heat from his body encasing her once again, and even in her heels had to stand on her tip toes as she brought her mouth to his ear and huskily said, "Thank you for inspiring me," and then carried her mouth just to the corner of his, just barely catching the edge of his lips, and kissed his cheek, before retreating back into the auditorium and not looking back.

Under the glowing light of the streetlamp, and the hum of traffic as it passed him by, Hannibal Lecter stood in silence with a hand pressed against the cheek that had been touched by Lilia's innocent mouth.


	12. Chapter 12

_** The watcher**_

"Thanks so much for coming tonight, both of you," Lilia said to Thomas and Elyse as they got into their car.  
"You were amazing tonight – I don't know why you don't try to get somewhere with your music; but that's a conversation for another day, because it's freezing, and I need to go home!" Said Elyse, before sitting in her car, but still poking her head out the window.  
"Do you want a lift?" Asked Thomas as he sat behind the wheel.  
Lilia rubbed her arms over herself, "No, no I'll be fine. Thank you, though. I already have a taxi on the way for me – you guys go, it's late."  
Elyse furrowed her brow at Lilia – and Lilia knew it was because she didn't like her being on her own.  
"I'll be fine, go."  
"Finee," started Elyse as she started putting her window up, "Text me as soon as you get into your taxi."  
"Of course," replied Lilia.  
She waved to them as they drove away into the cold night.

Lilia stood outside the centre, knowing that she must have had a very foolish smile on her face. She opened her purse to get her phone out, because she knew Elyse would be bombarding her with messages any second, but when she reached her hand in she noticed that her keys weren't in there with the phone.  
"Oh, no," she whispered frustratingly, "God, I must have left them in the dressing room."  
She looked around to see if her taxi was anywhere in site, but there were only the few cars that were passing by at this hour, so she hurried back inside to find her keys.

Lilia rushed around the dressing room – her movements frantic because she knew her taxi was going to be outside any moment.  
"I can't believe I left my keys in here!" She exclaimed, finally seeing them wedged down the side of the couch. She didn't remember taking them out of her clutch, but she had been so nervous that she thought it must have just slipped her mind.  
"Finally," she uttered and stuffed them back into her purse. When she turned around to exit the room she paused.  
Her breath caught in her throat, and she froze.  
The hall lights were on when she had been out there only moments ago. But now it was completely pitch black beyond the door. She let out a breath that she had been holding, "Don't be stupid," she thought, "Maintenance must just be preparing to close everything for the night."  
She pulled her phone out and used the light to guide her through the door frame. Her steps were slow, _cautious_ as she walked down the dark hallway. She heard creaks echoing toward her and tried to keep her mind calm – this place was old, it always creaked.  
She only had to walk to the end and then through the door and she would be back in the auditorium. Surely they wouldn't have turned the lights off in there yet.  
She made herself walk faster, just barely seeing the door in the distance amongst the dark, but feeling relieved.  
Her hand came down on the handle tightly and she pulled it open, stepping into the auditorium.  
The very _dark_ auditorium.  
The very _quiet _auditorium.  
The very _empty _auditorium.  
Before she had time to even breathe she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and she jolted her head to the stage. She felt her blood turn cold, and her body lose any ability to move – petrified, she stared at the dark figure standing on the stage, staring back at her.  
"_Run,_" She told herself, over and over; cursing her damn body for not obeying. She was completely overcome by fear, and she knew that they knew.  
She heard a deep laugh escape them – whoever it was, they were enjoying every moment of it.  
Lilia's mind raced around, and threw every emotion against her body as she tried to just THINK of how she could escape.  
Run. That was all she could do. So she did. She lifted her dress, still managing to keep a tight grip on her belongings, and she hurled herself toward the exit.  
"Someone, help!" She screamed – her lungs burning as she weaved around tables and chairs to get to the doors. She didn't dare look back. She was already slow enough in her _stupid _shoes.  
She rammed herself through the doors, "Anyone!" she called again, knowing that it was hopeless. But she was in the foyer now – if she could just get to the street.  
_But she was too slow. _  
There was an instance where she was running…and then she wasn't. She was on the ground, sharp pain shooting from her back – she had cried out as she heard the crack of his weapon against her body. And then his laughter as she struggled to get back on her feet, and turned to face him – trying to back toward the exit, while _hoping _to defend herself.  
She felt her stomach clench as the fear nearly made its way from her body. He had dropped the metal pipe that he'd knocked her down with – and in his hands now were long strings, and she _knew _that he was going to actually _kill _her with them.  
She wished she could see his face; it was hidden under a mask, and only sinister, completely terrifying eyes looked back at her – revelling in her pure fear.  
She let instinct take over her body. That was all she could do. She couldn't try to run again - he was too close now. So she threw herself at him, which he hadn't been expecting because she took him down and landed on top of him and tried to use her body to hold him down. It was stupid. He easily threw her back from him, another dark laugh escaping him as he used his body to pin her down – she _screamed. _It was the loudest thing that had ever left her body, and she couldn't stop herself.  
She squirmed and wriggled, trying anything to escape his grasp.  
"Lilia, Lilia, Lilia," he muttered, and lifted his weapon before bringing it close to her neck, and she felt the sharp press of threat against her skin.  
She moved her neck to the left – trying to get away, but only pressing the sharpness into her more, and she hissed as it started to slice at her neck.  
"P-Please, no," she started, before gulping, and turning to look him in his eyes. There was no resolve in them. Hatred. Anger. _Joy.  
_She tried to hold his gaze and took a small internal triumph as she saw some of the smugness in those disgusting eyes falter.  
_Finally, _her right hand, that had been left unpinned for only a few seconds, grabbed the metal pipe and she swung it so hard at his head that the crack emanated throughout the foyer. His groan was gift to her ears as he fell from his position to hold his head. Lilia scrambled to stand, adrenaline flowing through her, and she lifted the pipe again and brought it down hard on his back. Her assailant's body flattened into the ground and she heard him hold back his groan, "_I will not let you live," _he said but she had already turned to run – she was not going to stay there, with the closest thing to a monster she had ever seen. He grabbed onto her ankle before she could take another step, and yanked it harshly, and she fell. _Again._ This time her head smacked straight into the hard ground, and she felt the reverberation from the bash in every piece of her body. But there wasn't time for pain. She _forced _herself to stand, quickly, and moved further away from him. His hands were reaching for his weapon again, but he was slow – wounded. So Lilia ran.

**A/N: DUN DUN DAHHHHHHHHHHHH. (Evil music plays) I hope you guys liked this incredibly short chapter. I'm writing the rest now but I just wanted to give you a little something something for the weekend. Sorry if it's jumppppy, I get too excited about uploading a chapter and I don't listen to my editing voice of reason because of this. ANYWAY HAVE FUN HATING ME AND MY SHORT CHAPTERS. LOVE ME.**

**KTHANKSBYE**


	13. Chapter 13

_** The Dark And Light**_

A sombre glow poured into the room from the streetlight. Lilia craned her neck as she watched cars lazily drift by from her hospital bed. The normalcy was comforting. Her body still ached, and her mind was...exhausted, but at the same time frantic. Everything that made her whole had been ripped from her, a layer of skin shed from her body; and she wanted it back desperately.  
The doctors had come and gone, ran their tests, tried to ask her questions; but she had barely been able to form sentences – she was still in shock at the time. She had heard them talk about her injuries; nothing life threatening, but she had been told to stay overnight for observation, an apparent possibility of concussion - which would explain why her head hurt so much, and why everything was fuzzy.  
She had been given a private room - Baltimore Hospital wasn't always flushed with patients, so at least she could have some solitude to collect some semblance of herself.

Lilia wasn't sure how many hours she had been lying awake. She had declined the more intense painkillers because her mind already felt completely unhinged, so they had given her some mild ones instead, but it had only dulled the ache of her bruised limbs. The rain fell softly outside and offered her a small comfort. The fear that had crippled her previously was now sitting at the back of her mind, whispering things to her while she tried to hold on to her rationality. She had won that battle; at least one small victory for her tonight.  
It wasn't until the early hours of the morning, where the hospital gained more noise (nurses and doctors doing their rounds) that Lilia actually drifted to sleep. When she regained consciousness she could hear a nurse talking with someone just at her door.

"The doctor said it's alright for you to speak with her now, detectives."

Lilia opened her eyes, still disoriented from sleep, and she focused on the figures by the door. When her vision finally cleared she recognised Will Graham, and Jack Crawford, if she recalled correctly, walking toward her.

"Lilia, this is Jack Crawford, my superior - I-I know you're tired, but I hope you don't mind answering a few questions?"

Lilia shook her head; and she knew she must have looked completely horrifying at that moment; with her pale skin spattered with purple blotches, and her hair frantically framing her face.

"I don't mind," she replied and let her hands sit in her lap.

Detective Crawford met her at the side of her bed, while Will stood at the end with his arms folded across his chest.  
"Can you tell me exactly what happened last night, Miss Peters?" Asked Jack.

As Lilia's thoughts drifted back to the memory of her ordeal she inwardly flinched…she could still feel his hands around her throat, and see the pure, raw urge to kill that was in his eyes.

"I went back inside the auditorium to get my keys…when I went to leave the dressing room, all of the lights had been turned off."

"And that didn't strike you as strange?"

"It 'striked' me as normal, sir. It was late and I just assumed it was maintenance turning everything off."

Jack offered an apology with a nod, and then Lilia continued.

"When I came out into the auditorium he was up on the stage,"

"The assailant?" Asked Jack, looking to Will who had a thoughtful expression,

"Yes. And then I ran and he followed me – when I made it out into the foyer I screamed for help, but no one could hear me."

Lilia could feel tears welling in her eyes, and she _hated _herself for letting them fall down her cheek. It made her feel defeated, like that dirty, _demonic, _man had won.

"There's cameras," she started quietly, and both Jack and Will seemed surprised, "It's only in the foyer though, but maybe what footage you can get from there will be enough to help you catch him."

Detective Crawford went to the door of Lilia's hospital room and took his phone out of his pocket to make a call.

Will moved to her side, "Obviously we haven't examined the crime scene yet – we wanted to speak with you first," he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "Is there any reason you can think of that someone would want to hurt you?"

Lilia shook her head, and a few more tears escaped her eyes, "No," she said, breathing heavily and wiping them, "I don't know. He knew my _name, _and the way he said it was like he knows me, or like he has been watching me."

Jack came to stand by Will's side, "They're getting the footage from last night as we speak. I told them we would meet them at the scene. I'm sorry to be so abrupt with you Miss Peters, but is there anything else you can tell us about your experience? Did your attacker have any defining features that the camera may not have picked up?"

"He had a very deep voice…I, ah, think there was a scar on one of his hands, and… his weapon looked like strings from a guitar or a cello," She brought a hand to her throat; where he had pressed the metal so hard that she had bled, it was now covered in dressings, "S-Sorry –"

Both Will and Jack could see that she was having trouble, so Jack intervened,

"We will let you get some rest. I think it's best that you stay with some friends or family…"

Lilia looked at Jack solemnly, "That…might be a little hard."

"We could station someone outside your home, but it would be best that you had someone stay with you for a few days; or at least until we catch your attacker."

Lilia nodded, "Okay, thank you both."

Jack exited the room, but Will stayed behind and looked at Lilia with a pained expression.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you." He said, and held her gaze for a moment before leaving the room.

Lilia let out a long breath as she watched their retreating backs. She just wanted to turn back time so that she never agreed to going to the auditorium that night.  
Just as she was pulling the hospital sheets tighter around her Elyse came running into the room -

"Lilia! Oh my god, I'm so sorry, they wouldn't let me see you until the detectives had spoken with you!"

Elyse scrambled across the bed and took Lilia in her arms, and Lilia held on to her tightly. It felt comforting just to have familiarity again. She didn't even care that Elyse was squeezing her a little too tight.

"I'm so glad you're okay, I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Elyse pulled back and examined Lilia's bruises, "That asshole." She exclaimed.

Lilia half smiled, "It's alright…I'm okay. I'd just really like to get home, and get out of this stupid gown."

Elyse nodded, "I'll go see what I can do."

"She really did fight to get out," commented Beverly to Jack and Will.

They all stood in the foyer of the auditorium watching the footage that had been sent to them on Brian's ipad.

"She was surviving," said Will, a glum note in his voice.

They all watched intently as Lilia picked up the pipe and hit the attacker with it, and could still hear the reverberation of the crack against his skin.

"I can't watch this right now," said Will and he turned away, examining the foyer while forensics busied around them.

"What's with him?" Asked Brian, eyes glued to Will's back.

"We know the victim personally; although Will is a bit more familiar with her."

"Ah. Poor Will. And I feel bad for the victim – she's the same one that we found frozen at the University isn't she? Where the guy was made into the instrument?"

Before Jack could reply, Will had turned to face them again, "It's the same killer."  
"What are you saying Mr Graham? He's _targeting _people now?"

Will nodded, pacing across the carpet, "He's targeting Lilia at the moment. Something she did, or does, maybe her music – there's something about her that is attracting him."

Jack sighed, "This is one sick bastard, Will. I need you to help me find him before he strikes again."

"He won't strike again, not for a while. He isn't finished, but he's wounded physically and, well, his pride too. He didn't get his prize."

The rest of the team wondered how Will came to conclusions so fast, or how he grasped concepts of situations so quickly. It was incredible.

"We'll leave you alone so you can do your thing. Miss Peters said that he first chased her from the stage."

Will nodded and headed into the hall to examine the scene.

_I wait for her to emerge. It's exhilarating knowing she's so close and so clueless._

She opens the door, and I stay silent, staring like a predator hunting its prey.

She sees me standing here.

I stare.

She runs.

It's so invigorating watching her sprint for the doors – she knows I'm close behind her.

I feel powerful knowing that she can't outrun me; so I let her hold on to hope just before I bring the pipe down, hard, on her back.

She falls and I marvel.

Then I take my strings out – I am ready to make art; to let her become part of a masterpiece, to rip her skin from her body and watch the life fade from her eyes.

I want to watch her die slowly.

I hold her gaze as I press the strings into her fragile skin. She holds my gaze and I look back – she needs to know that I am the one taking her life from her. I want her to remember every second of her death.

I'm so enraged with thoughts that I don't expect the blow from the pipe.

And when she finally escapes, and I watch her retreating form; I can only continue to imagine how wonderful it will be when I tear the skin from her body.

Will shook himself from the scene – it was incredibly hard for him to immerse himself in this killer. He could feel all of his hatred crawling across his skin. It was almost too hard to come back.  
It always was.

When he informed Jack of what he saw, he left the scene with scattered breaths.

Jack raised his mobile to his ear, "Hi, Alana, it's Jack. I need you to do me a favour."

When Lilia arrived home she felt some of the edge disappear from her body.  
Elyse walked across the room and into the kitchen – "Why don't I make you something to eat? Or we could get some takeout?"  
Lilia smiled softly, "I'm not really hungry…I'm just going to go and change into some fresh clothes, and maybe you can decide on something."

Elyse nodded and sadly watched Lilia retreat to her room. She felt devastated for her friend, because this was now the second time something traumatic had happened to her; and she shouldn't have had to deal with a second occurrence, even a first, for that matter.  
The doctors at the hospital had only let Elyse take Lilia home on the condition that she saw a psychiatrist. They had recommended their hospital one but Elyse knew Lilia wasn't ready to start sessions, so she agreed that she would take her to see a different one instead.  
She opened Lilia's fridge and was surprised by how little there was in there. It was almost empty. A stick of celery, some eggs and milk, and some leftovers from god knows how long ago. Which wasn't very Lilia-like at all. Elyse teed it up to all of the exams that they had had recently, and the performances that Lilia had had.

Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, and something, or _someone _else stared back at her. She had never felt so vulnerable in her life. A bruised, and inflamed lip caught her eye at first, and then the angry bruises on her cheekbone and forehead, then the dressings on her neck which hid the moment that her life nearly ended. That was where her gaze stuck, thoughts lingering on that moment that his eyes told her that death was upon her.  
She sharply brought her hand to her mouth to muffle the cries that escaped her; tears streamed from her eyes and she wept, convulsing, over and over.  
She clenched the basin and her fingers went white from the pressure, as she quietly let out everything she had been holding in. There were only a few more seconds of hacking sobs and scattered tears; because Lilia did not like to cry and she didn't like to look at herself while she cried either. Now, calmer – the tears subsiding- she examined her wet, broken face again. _Pathetic _was all that she could think. She hated being the victim.  
It took every ounce of her being to shove it all deep down inside of her. She ran the water and washed her face, and the rest of her tears and then walked back out to the kitchen.

Lilia found herself painfully crawling under her covers that night. Thomas had ended up coming over at 9pm, and now he and Elyse were on the couch, that folded out into a bed, while Lilia tried to bask in some silence.  
Her mind was full of too many thoughts. She knew that she should try to think about other things, but she couldn't help it. She was scared. She lifted her phone from her bedside table and opened it, scrolling down to Hannibal's name in her phonebook.  
She wondered if he would be awake as it was now 11pm.  
She pressed ring and lifted the phone to her ear.

It rang once.

Twice.

"Hello,"

Lilia wasn't expecting him to answer that quickly, but hearing his voice comforted her and she softly replied, "Hi."

She didn't know what else to say, and it seemed he was waiting on the silence too – she wondered if he knew what had happened.

"Sorry to call you so late," she said.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and she sighed.

"Yes, I'm fine. I know it's late, and it's silly, but I just wanted to hear your voice."

"I don't think that is silly at all. I'm so sorry for what happened to you; I felt almost responsible when Mr Graham told me what had happened."

If Lilia could have moved faster she would have, but her body only flinched slightly at his words, "Hannibal, don't be ridiculous, no one could have known that was going to happen."

He went quiet again, perhaps brooding over his words, "I know, I just do not like the thought someone hurting _you_."

Another sigh left Lilia's lungs. She already felt better just hearing him talk – she felt ridiculous even needing _this _from this man; yet couldn't bring herself to end the conversation.

"The doctors have recommended that I see a psychiatrist."

"Actually, I am aware that they did that. The hospital contacted Jack to ensure that you sought help, and Jack informed them that he had already contacted someone for you."

"Oh?" Lilia said, startled – this was news to her.

"Well, he wanted Alana Bloom, a trusted colleague of mine to offer her services to you – "

"Oh, no, no – I really don't want to do that," she interjected, and Hannibal half laughed.

"I'm afraid it is a requirement of your release from the hospital, Miss Peters."

She heard the 'doctor' tone, but continued, "I really wouldn't feel comfortable talking to someone I know about my feelings, Hannibal. I can't. And I won't."

Another silence lingered.

"What if we arranged it so that you could have your sessions with me?"

Lilia was surprised, "Y-You? But we're-, "What were they? Friends? Potential lovers? "Friends…" she continued, "wouldn't that be unethical?"

"I'm very well versed in separating my work relationships from my friendships. By that I mean, I'm happy to treat you if you could trust that I won't divulge any of the information shared, or treat you any differently, because of what we talk about in sessions."  
Lilia chewed her lip. She knew that she would have to start sessions with someone, and she would much rather it be him than some stranger. The faster she said yes, the faster she could get it all out of the way and carry on with her life like this nightmare never happened in the first place.

"Um," she started uneasily, "Ok – yes, I think I'd prefer it being you rather than someone else anyway."

"Would you like to meet me tomorrow afternoon at my office? I can send you the address," he said, and Lilia got lost in his enticing accent for a moment.  
Then she remembered that he had in fact asked her a question, "That works for me," she could feel her nerves returning, and her aches reminding her that she should still be feeling afraid right now.

"Thank you, Hannibal." She said lastly, and he bid her goodnight.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Emergence_**

It was Friday. Or Friday night to be exact – just approaching 6pm. Lilia was struggling to get her dark grey jeans on; she had thought it would be a good idea to wear them, because they were comfortable, but now with them half way up her leg, she regretted her choice. She was still basically completely bruised from head to toe. Lilia didn't want to admit it, but her attacker had almost gotten the better of her, and now, struggling to get her pants on because of the pain in her body, she realised that; and the reality hurt.  
When she finally got herself clothed, she walked into her bathroom to check her appearance.  
She had feebly managed to braid her hair, so it wasn't just messily falling around her face, and settled on her white woollen sweater for a top – her pants were definitely comfortable now that they were actually _on, _but she feared the impeding pain when she was going to have to pull them off again later.  
Her cheek was still lightly inflamed from when she had fallen, and there was bruising along the side of one of her shoulders from where he had hit her with the bat. Purple and angry. But at least the sweater covered it.  
The worst part of her appearance were the indents left on the skin of her neck, where he had pressed the metal so deep that it had made her bleed. It was scabbing now, and looked better than it had, but she covered it over with some gauze and then wrapped her dark red scarf around her neck.  
"_There,"_ she thought, half smiling at her reflection, now she looked better.

Lilia's appointment was at 6pm, and now she found herself walking hastily down the cold, snowy sidewalk. It was 5.55pm. She probably shouldn't have relied on the fact that her apartment complex was essentially right next door to Hannibal's office because she hadn't given herself enough time to battle with her body to actually put appropriate clothes on. She still hurt now, while she pushed her body to walk faster through the cold night.

When she managed to make it to the waiting room she looked down at her phone to check the time.

_6.02pm_

She felt her stomach drop – he had gone out of his way to offer to do this for her, and she couldn't even manage to make it on time to an appointment that was two steps away from her home.  
She knocked on the door and waited. When she heard footsteps approaching, her breaths shortened and she became nervous.

"_Lilia," _he said as he opened the door and his eyes regarded her sadly. She must have still looked battered.

"Come in," he said and his hand was warm against the small of her back as he led her into his office.  
The warmth that radiated from his room comforted her – anything was better than being outside while she felt like this.  
Her thoughts were interrupted as her eyes roamed the entirety of his office. It was magnificent.

"Your office is lovely," she said, walking to the edge of the ladder where she eyed the rows of books above.  
Hannibal had stayed quiet while she took in his room, but softly smiled now at her musings and replied, "Thank you. If books are something that interest you then perhaps, at a later date, you could borrow whatever you like, if it pleases you."

She turned back to gaze at his soft expression, still perplexed by the enigma that was Hannibal Lecter, and returned a soft smile to him, "I would love that."  
Then she slowly, (with protesting bones), walked back toward him, "Forgive me, I am not here to admire your office, or waste your time, we should probably start…"

"You are not wasting my time – this is _your _time, and if you want to spend this session admiring my office, I will not stop you."  
His lips quirked.  
Lilia stared at him, something she found herself doing more often than not, and she crossed her arms over her chest, "I thought we were supposed to talk about my feelings?"

"Is that something that you _want _to talk about?"

She shook her head, "Not particularly, no. But I suppose if it helps with the nightmares, I should welcome it."

Suddenly the room became quieter, almost like it lost the playful air, and Hannibal took a few steps closer to Lilia.

With soft words he asked, "Are you getting any sleep?"

His eyes were intense – dark umber washing over her, and she found her quiet voice, "_sometimes_."  
She said nothing else for a few moments, not sure what he was thinking, then took a deep breath, "Since the musician that I saw at the auditorium…I have been having nightmares. They were horrific at first, and I couldn't really sleep without hallucinating that he was somewhere in my room. Then they got better, and I was finally sleeping better again, not hallucinating – just having the nightmares every now and then. Which is manageable. But…after the other night…last night was one of the worst."

Her eyes had started to water; but she pretended not to notice. It was just the air.

"Why don't you sit down," he said, and she followed him to one of the chairs.

"So you're analysing me now?" She asked, mostly innocence in her tone.

"I'm not analysing you, Lilia. I just want to help you."

She fell silent and decided that now was the best time for her to pick at one of the loose threads on her jeans.

"Does it scare you to talk about the dreams?"

She continued to pick at the thread, "I think so. I think because then the reality of everything becomes a…_reality._"

She continued to avoid his gaze, her heartrate quickening. She didn't like to talk about these types of things period.

"And by them becoming a reality, you would have to accept what has happened to you."

His words were sharp. She hadn't wanted him to say them – but they were in a session, and he was doing his job. It didn't make the sting any less.

"Yes," she whispered and looked up to him.

"The only way one can heal is to first acknowledge what has hurt them, Miss Peters."

She didn't like his doctor tone very much.

It was right though.

"Why don't you tell me what happened last night?"

"O-Ok," she replied, and hugged herself a little.  
Hannibal had reached for his notebook, and started jotting down little points by this time. She wondered what he had written.  
"I didn't really fall asleep until the early hours of the morning – the pain kept me awake for some time. But when I did I dreamt that I wasn't able to move and I was staring up at my ceiling. The more I tried to struggle, the more an invisible weight held me down. It was hard to breathe.  
Then I heard gasping in the corner – what sounded like gasping. I looked to my left and then," she tried to calm her raging heart, "The man that attacked me was pulling out the vocal chords of the musician from the auditorium. Except his eyes still had life in them and he looked at me, and I couldn't move while he just _looked _at me."

Lilia's eyes became glassy bright cerulean as tears started to fall from her eyes. She hadn't wanted to cry in front of him. She wiped at them and exhaled, "S-Sorry," she said.

"You shouldn't be sorry. Your mind has experienced something foreign and atrocious. Sometimes the way we process these things is through our subconscious state. Do you feel guilty about the Musician?"

Her brow furrowed in thought.

"Do you think that you could have prevented his death? It seems as though your subconscious mind believes that you were a bystander that allowed the death of another human, and your guilt is what holds you down in your nightmare."

She stayed silent and Hannibal leaned forward in his chair, "You know that there was nothing you could have done, don't you?"

She sighed – of course that was something she knew. But that didn't stop her from thinking of scenarios where she prevented his death. It was a human life after all.

"You need to accept that it was something that you couldn't prevent from happening."

"I am trying to. It's hard when you know them. And this dream…I feel like the image of his twisted body will never leave my mind."

"It will," he replied, then left from his chair, and returned with a glass of water, "here."

She hadn't realised but her hands were shaking; and now she looked at the water, and down at her hands feeling quite pathetic.

"S-Sorry," she said again, and took the water from him, "Thank you."

"I believe that brings our session to an end."

"What?" she said, looking up at him surprised, "Wasn't it supposed to last for an hour?"

"Yes, but you are in no state to continue at this moment – as much as you may try to hide it, you need to rest. Besides. The hospital only said that you were to have five sessions with a Psychiatrist, they did not specify for how long."

She smiled at him then; because something told her that he would normally keep prodding at his patients, rather than letting them off. But she was grateful. She placed the glass on the side table and lifted herself from the chair, hissing when a sharp pain shot through her back.

Hannibal was at her side instantly, holding one of her arms lightly,  
"Are you alright?"

He was so close that his breath brushed her cheek, and she turned to look at him, startled by the pain and by his kindness.

"I'm fine, just still healing."

"May I walk you home?" He asked.

"Don't you have other appointments?"

"Not until later, let me get my coat."

As much as Lilia wanted to enjoy the short walk with Hannibal, she couldn't for very long. She had taken some anti-inflammatories earlier that day, which had long since worn off, and now with the cold air wrapping around her, she felt the pain tenfold.

"I'd like to recommend that you stay in bed for a few days, Lilia, it's not good for you to be up and about so soon."

"I can definitely promise you that I'll try," she said lightly, "I just don't like being alone for too long at the moment. That was when the hallucinations were the worst last time."

"Well, we will have to arrange something so that you are not alone so often then, won't we?" He said in his Lithuanian accent, which captivated her thoughts frequently, and she wondered if he meant that he was going to be keeping her company. The thought made her skin prickle.

They reached the door of her apartment and she unlocked it shakily.

"Would you like to come in for some tea?" she asked, as the door slowly swung open and she leant on the door frame looking at him.

"Unfortunately I will have to go back to my office and prepare for my next patient. Unless you need me to assist you with anything before I go?"

She almost chuckled when the first thought sharply jumped into her mind. He caught the flicker in her eyes, and asked, "Is there something I can _assist _you with, Miss Peters?"

Lilia hadn't realised how quickly ones lungs could suddenly just stop working, and depriving you of air. Or how easy pain was to forget when you were startled.

"N-No…" she started, trailing off her words when she realised that he was actually quite close – probably still worrying that she was going to fall at any moment from her injuries – but still managing to be incredibly intimidating and charming all at once.

"There's nothing I can think of at the moment," she finally said to him.

His eyes still held her gaze firmly and then he asked, "Are you sure? It looked as though you were internally laughing at something to yourself a moment ago."

She felt trapped.

She blushed and looked down, contemplating whether or not she should tell him; but before she had finished deciding, her mouth decided for her.

"I had a very difficult time trying to put these pants on. And I was laughing because I don't know if I'm going to be able to get them off."

He was quietly watching her for a moment – maybe just hearing her words. But when he took another step closer, so much closer that his body heat enveloped her and all she wanted to do was melt into it, she forgot her pain and suddenly found herself focusing on his very nice mouth.

She watched the next words fall from that mouth like delicate footfalls travelling across her skin and erupted in goose bumps.

"Do you need help taking them _off?_"

Her mind was a frenzy of thoughts. Everything in her body had forgotten how to function correctly; there were no words attempting to breach the forefront of her mind, no movements occurring in her limbs – just her doe eyed stare, caught by the hunter before her.

_Say yes._

That was what her inner mind was now repeating over and over again. It had overridden the pain that was currently inhibiting her body and she was only _warm _now.  
He was still staring at her and she could have sworn that she watched his eyes travel in slow motion across the expanse of her body – but she didn't trust one thing that her mind was sending her right now, because she could hardly believe that those words had left Hannibal Lecter's mouth.

"I-uh…" she tried, she tried so incredibly hard to say _something _but he was so intoxicating and she felt everything that was _her, _begging her to just pull him into the house with her.

She shook her head, and fumbled over her words again, "Goodnight, Hannibal," she finally said, and almost fell backwards through the door frame.

He stepped back, pulling himself from their intoxicating bubble and curtly nodded to her, "Goodnight, Lilia."

Lilia closed the door and found herself once again at a loss at the man that was Hannibal Lecter.

There was a light tap at the door of Hannibal's office at 8:55pm. Hannibal was sitting at his desk, articulately sketching across a page, and lifted his head at the sound.  
He had been expecting his patient at 8:30pm, but they hadn't arrived at their delegated time, nor had he received any notification that they would be arriving late.  
The knock repeated, this time louder, more insistent against the dark wood. So Hannibal lifted himself from his chair, covering his work in the process, and then walked to the door.

"I am so sorry, Hannibal," said Franklin, bursting through in an array of huffs and distress.

He hadn't waited for Hannibal to invite him in.

Hannibal turned to his patient, twenty five minutes late, and felt an anger boiling inside him, but kept it at bay.  
Franklin had taken his jacket off now, and thrown it haphazard across the back of his chair, and flopped down in an oblivious heap.

Hannibal walked to his own chair, and eloquently took his place, before taking a deep breath and asking, "How are you, Franklin?"

Franklin stared at him for a moment, looking as though he were going to burst into tears again, "I was arguing with Tobias again."

Those words slightly piqued Hannibal's interest, "What was the quarrel about?"

Then Franklin sobbed, and it was a few moments before he could form a reply from the tears that choked his words and snot that dribbled from him.

"At first I was just angry with him because he has hardly been home, and he's been acting so strange, and saying some very disturbing things."

Hannibal crossed one leg over the other and leant forward, "To what strange actions are you referring to?"

"Well…a few days before that man was turned into an instrument, he had been talking about some man that had bought strings from him, who had 'insulted' his brand of strings, and literally said, 'I'd like to turn him into one,' and I brushed it off as a joke, but then that murder happened and –

"Breathe, Franklin," said Hannibal quietly, and Franklin froze like a deer, eyes wide and threw his hands to his mouth.

"W-What if he's the one that did it? I keep thinking that he couldn't possibly, but then when they said in the news that someone was attacked at the auditorium, I was petrified. The same night that the attack happened Tobias came home, almost hobbling but said he had almost been mugged, and they said that the attacker was wounded by the victim, then here he magically is at home with wounds… do you think I'm being paranoid? You're the doctor, tell me!"

The quick succession of words that had fallen from Franklin's lips amused Hannibal. He could see that his patient was completely torn over his discovery, and though Hannibal felt the need to help heal the psyche of a broken human, he did not feel it for this one. He enjoyed the struggle that was Franklin.

"Do _you _think you're being paranoid, Franklin?"

"Well, no?"

"Why do you sound so unsure? Do you think perhaps you are placing your fears about your friendship on your friend, and that maybe he has nothing to do with these murders at all?"

Franklin nodded slowly, brow still creased in thought, like he didn't want to absorb the information, but was making himself listen.

"I think," He paused, looking out the window of Hannibal's office, "…that you're right. We both know I have paranoid tendencies."

There was surprise for a moment – Hannibal hadn't realised that Franklin had the ability to recognise his own paranoia; always denying the truth that was before him, but perhaps that's what this was. Perhaps Franklin was trying to find a way to deny that Tobias couldn't be the murderer, and blaming himself was the easiest.

"I believe we should leave the session tonight, you are clearly calmer now."

"Oh…Well I suppose I should go and apologise to Tobias – he must hate me now."

"Franklin, do not be absurd. Stay calm, go home and make amends."

The session had gone on longer than Hannibal had realised. By the time Franklin had finished putting himself back together, over the sniffling and choked back sobs, and the frequent pausing in every sentence, time had completely surpassed them.

It was 10:55 by the time Hannibal returned to his home. He hardly ever ate leftovers, but because tonight had deprived him of time to cook himself a fresh meal, he settled for the leftovers from the night before.  
By the time he had showered and finished his nightly routine it was close to midnight – his house was quite a cold temperature, but Hannibal found that he liked it that way. He had taken off his shirt and put his silk pyjama pants on, and was about to crawl into his bed when he heard his phone buzz from the dresser.

He walked over to it and looked down at the bright screen.

Message from Lilia at 11:30:

_**Lilia: **__Thank you for tonight – I'm sorry that I was so unstable._

Hannibal traced his eyes over the words, smiling to himself. He decided he would reply because there was a definite chance that she was still awake.

_**Hannibal:**__ You're more than welcome. Please stop apologising for things you cannot control, you're healing and it will take you time._

He walked himself to his bed and got under the covers, holding his phone in his hands while he waited to see if she would reply.

_**Lilia: **__Sorry. I'll stop. I just don't want to waste your time – I like spending time with you._

He smiled.

_**Hannibal:**__ I also enjoy your company. You're not wasting my time._

Then he waited a moment, thinking on what else he could write.

_H__**annibal: **__Although, I can't say I'm not a little disappointed that you declined my assistance today._

_**Lilia: **__There was an immense amount of reluctance in that decline, Hannibal._

_**Hannibal: **__Oh?_

_**Lilia:**__ Well, I didn't want to trouble you, you see. I actually required assistance with more than one thing, and you were short for time._

Hannibal's eyebrow quirked in interest – for someone who radiated a graceful reservedness to them, she definitely could become quite the _flirt _when she wanted. He liked it.

_**Hannibal: **__I would have stayed for longer if you had told me that you needed me for other things._

Her next reply was quick.

_**Lilia: **__Well, Doctor Lecter, I needed your assistance in removing my pants and my sweater._

_**Hannibal: **__Is that all? That wouldn't have taken very long at all._

_**Lilia:**__ And then I needed your help taking off my shirt._

_**L:**__ And then my socks._

_**L:**__And then my bra._

Hannibal swallowed because she was utterly breathtaking, and her words struck something deep within him.

_**Hannibal: **__Well then, I'll have to make sure that next time you require my assistance, I cancel all of my appointments, so I can help you remove every item of your clothing._

_**Lilia:**__ If I weren't still so bruised, I'd be asking you to come and remove my clothes right now._

_**Hannibal: **__If you weren't so bruised, I would have removed your clothing when I was in your door frame today, and done much, much more._

_**Lilia: **__Maybe you shouldn't book any other patients after me next Friday._

_**Hannibal:**__ What would you have me do instead, Miss Peters?_

_**Lilia:**__ Me._

_**A/N oOOOOOK As I do every time, I must apologise for the lame waiting period between uploads - I write something and then I don't like it so I re write it, and then I spend another fifty years switching between programs because every time I upload a file it comes up spastic spaced! If anyone has any recommendations for programs to use... I'm using LibreOffice at the moment, but it might be an outdated version. ANYWAY. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is now 1:06am and instead of double-double checking that the chapter makes full sense and has the least amount of grammatical errors it can have, I have decided to upload instead! YAY. I hope you like it and thank you so much to all of you who have recently come to join the Hannibal and Lilia journey! And to those of you who review, thank you! Your reviews are inspiration to me and make me so excited to write more when I read them! So thank you all, and I hope to godddd that my brain kicks out another chapter this week, cause I really just want Hannibal and Lilia to 'get it on' ;) ;) if you know what I mean. ANYWAY HAVE A NICE DAY OR NIGHT OR AFTERNOON. FAREWELL FOR NOW MY PRETTIES!  
**  
_


	15. Chapter 15

_**The pieces that we are**_

The first thing that entered Lilia's vision was the empty wineglass perched on her bedside table. She squinted. An empty _bottle _too. Through her morning haziness she pulled herself from the covers, "Oh, no," she uttered.  
She stretched, tilted her neck to the side until she heard a satisfying crack, and then ran her fingers through her hair while she yawned.  
Her hand froze. Everything flooded her mind at once. She remembered the first glass of wine, then the second; and then the beginning of a very suggestive conversation with Hannibal – or was that after the _whole _bottle of wine?  
Lilia squinted as she started to remember broken pieces of their conversation and some of the words that they exchanged.  
Like a bright light abrasively entering her mind she remembered the last of their messages. She scrambled from the bed, getting tangled in the covers and nearly falling in a panic.  
She reached for her phone.  
Last messages at 12.42am:

Hannibal: What would you have me do instead, Miss Peters?

Lilia: Me

Her eyes trailed over her reply.

Then they trailed over it again.

_Me._

Her hand shot to her mouth in horror, "Oh my god." She said.

Lilia had never said anything like that to anyone in her life. She had never been so forward, or suggestive, or _courageous. _Yet here she was, telling Hannibal Lecter that she _wanted_ him. She was mortified. She felt sick. But at the same time Lilia felt _thrilled. _He had been just as suggestive as her in the conversation – he had to have known that she was going to say something like that. He practically goaded her into doing it.  
Lilia wondered if he hadn't replied because he wanted her to obsess over it. She could see that he had read the message – but maybe he wanted her to. He had won if that was his plan.  
She took a deep breath, "Calm down," she said to no one but herself and placed the phone back on the bedside table. She just needed to go about her day like that conversation never occurred, and not think about Hannibal Lecter.

The day actually passed faster than she thought it would have. And it was easier to get through than she thought. Elyse had come over to check on her, and even Will had sent her a message to see how she was feeling after everything. _Sweet of him. _

What had kept her most distracted was her Psych paper. It was due next week, and even though her professors had told her that they would give her extensions because of her situation, she still wanted to try and make the deadline.  
The paper was a choice of the student, but it just had to include practised theories, and pose a question that was then answered throughout the paper.  
Lilia had chosen to focus on the curiosity of the human mind and how far ones curiosity could take them – what was it that compelled them?  
Although she was using her own experience with the dangers of curiosity as her basis for the paper, revisiting the memories actually helped her overcome some of the experience.  
She had mentioned the paper to Hannibal over the phone and he had called it her coping mechanism. She wasn't supposed to be thinking of Hannibal though, so she continued typing out fancy, psychological word vomit – hoping that her research, and regurgitation was an accurate representation of curiosity and the human mind.

"What brings you here unannounced Hannibal?" Asked Bedelia while she sat across from Hannibal in her home.

He seemed troubled. But who could tell if that was a surface emotion or a deep one.

"I find myself becoming too attached to my patients and their minds." He said.

"We talked about this in the beginning, Hannibal. You have a habit of treating those that you call friends; and somehow they agree. Yet you know well, that it is unethical and unhealthy."

He sighed, "Yes, you're right Bedelia. But I just see something in them-

"And you feel like you're the only one who can help them?" She interrupted.

"Yes." He replied.

"Well, the version of themselves that you think is the best," she continued, "Perhaps it is time you realised, Hannibal, that you need to not interfere with the organic formation of one's self. You have a habit of bringing another self forth within your patients – and maybe it is your untameable curiosity for the events that occur – but we both know that your curiosity can sometimes lead to dangerous things."

Hannibal looked up at her, looking hurt by her words, but then straightened and cleared his throat.

"Are you saying that I'm _dangerous?_"

"I have no doubt that you are dangerous, but I also know that you are fiercely controlled by your emotions, whether you admit it or not, and there's also an inherent fibre forever telling you to _help _people."

Bedelia crossed her legs while Hannibal stared at her silently for a few moments.

"Tell me, Hannibal, do you try to ignore the compassionate voices within you?"

"Sometimes." He said softly.

"Does it bother you that you were once inherently good?" She asked, curious to his answer.

"We cannot truly know if we were inherently good…" He started looking at her intensely.

"Well, one cannot know if they were inherently evil. As a psychiatrist we are taught that the environment that we are brought up in changes us – it is a precursor for what we will become."

Hannibal smirked, "do you truly believe that, Bedelia?"

"I'm not so sure." She replied, staring at him just as intensely as he started at her.

"You do not like to talk deeply about yourself in these sessions – just surface emotions…"

"Surface emotions count too though, don't they?" He said.

"Yes, but we both know that your surface emotions are far, far different from your deeper ones. Most people have links with their deeper ones."

"I'm not most people."

"No you're not." She said softly.

There was a short silence.

"So which of your patients have surpassed your surface emotions, Hannibal?" She questioned.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise as though he hadn't expected her to ask, "Lilia Peters," he said.

Bedelia hummed, "The musician?"

He nodded.

Bedelia stayed quiet.

Then softly, "I find that because you see into your patients, they see into you – the ones that you try to _change._"

"She has not always been my patient, though. It was only recently that I took her under my advice."

"So you're saying you felt this way before you started treating her? That's a very thin line Hannibal. You know better."

"I should have." He uttered.

"So you're just here to agree with me," she stated, "You already knew what my professional opinion would be."

"I like your input."

"Ah," she hummed and watch him stand.

"I should go. Appointments to tend to." He said, walking to the entrance of her house.

Bedelia followed and watched his shadow as he left the room. Then she followed him to the door and opened it for him.

"Goodbye Hannibal, I hope you are _less _conflicted."

Hannibal just nodded at her, said nothing else and left.

It was harder at night for Will. He kept waking, saturated, in a puddle of his own sweat while his heart rapidly beat in his chest. That night he had fallen from his bed, trying to twist away from his nightmare and landed hard on the floor.  
His dogs all bombarded him with concern – wagging their tales and licking at him. He groaned. Taking a deep breath, and after calming the canines, he pushed himself from the floor and sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.  
The nightmare had been horrible.

A deformed body with flesh rotting from the bone called out to him from the corner of his room. He could see its eyes, evil and petrifying as they emerged from the shadows. His throat had closed up, and when he tried to cry out he couldn't. When he tried to move he felt a heavy weight pressing down on him. . _Trapped. _  
When he finally felt his throat open, after staring at the body for years, he cracked out, "What do you want?"

It said nothing, but continued to stare with its dead eyes at him.

"A _becoming." It finally said and stepped from the shadows, revealing all of its face._

Garret Jacob Hobbs.

"You feel it," he began, walking slowly toward Will, who still couldn't move, "Don't you."

The statement frightened Will. The sounds. The words.

Slowly the rotting body started crawling up his bed, and whispers were smashing against his ears painfully.

That was when he twisted himself enough that he fell from his bed and woke up. He _hated _his mind sometimes.

Lilia laughed exasperatedly as she rewrote the same line for what felt like the hundredth time in the hour. Yesterday she had managed to rid herself of all Hannibal related thoughts by occupying her mind with her paper. But as she edited it now, she was frustrated with eighty percent of the wording, and the length of her response. Sometimes she could be a perfectionist.  
She put her chin in her hand, huffing, and looking out the window behind her couch. The weather forecast had said that it was going to rain that afternoon, and now she looked at the grey sky, smiling. She loved the rain. There was something about it that was peaceful and invigorating. Inspiration was always easy to find when she listened to the sound of it against the roof and smelled the fresh smell in the air.

She rubbed her arms down herself, feeling much better today than the others – her bruises were only a faded purple now. It hadn't hurt as much when she tried to move around either. The neck wound was more of an angry scar – it had healed quickly. The scar wasn't the only angry thing though. She was angry every time she was reminded that she let herself get into a situation like that. Afraid, and frustrated, she tried to shake the thoughts from her mind. Hannibal had told her techniques she could use to rid herself of some of the anxiety – one of them being to distract herself with things; which she already knew, but when it comes from a practising psychiatrist she _heard _it better.

Out of the silence her buzzer went off and she jumped, eyes darting to the door. She walked quickly to the intercom, nervous, and took a deep breath.

"Hello?" She called.

"Hi, I have a delivery for Lilia Peters?" The voice said, male, but young.

"Ok, sure. I'll buzz you up." She replied.

She waited a few minutes by the door – scared – it could be anyone.

Then the ominous knock reached her ears and she stared at the door.

"S-Sorry, would you mind leaving it by the door, I'm not decent."

That was a stupid choice of words, she thought.

"I'll just slide it under. Have a nice day!" The voice called.

Slide it under?

An envelope slid through the gap between floor and door and then she suddenly felt stupid. A letter? Who would send a personal delivery man for a letter?

She picked it up and walked back to the couch while she opened it.

There was impossibly neat cursive writing before her on what looked like expensive parchment.

It read:

_Dear Lilia,_

_I would be honoured if you would join me for dinner tonight at 8pm._

_Wear something formal._

_Sincerely,_  
_Hannibal Lecter_

Her eyebrows could not have stretched higher.

"He wants to have dinner with me?" She said aloud, then bashfully felt silly for saying it aloud.

She was thrilled.

Forgetting about the messages that they had exchanged the night before, she picked up her phone from the coffee table, ignored the last message that she had sent him, and began typing a new one.

_**Lilia: **__So you still send invitations through the mail?_

She didn't have to wait long for his reply.

_**Hannibal: **__What other way would one send an invitation?_

_**Lilia: **__I don't know…Maybe online like everyone else?_

_**Hannibal: **__I am not everyone else._

She panicked, wondering if she had offended him. She was just trying to be playful about it.

_**Lilia: **__No you're not. Please don't think that I meant that as an insult – I have just never received an invitation by mail before._

_**Hannibal: **__There's a first time for everything. So what is your answer?_

_**Lilia: **__I think you know._

Of course he knew her answer.

_**Hannibal: **__I will meet you at your apartment at 7:30 – that way we can walk there, it's only close by._

_**Lilia: **__What is the restaurant called?_

_**Hannibal: **__You will find out at 8pm._

She laughed loudly, marvelling at him.

_**Lilia: **__Okay then. I'll be waiting for you._

He didn't write anything back. But Lilia was okay with that.

The first thing she did was call Elyse. She felt like a schoolgirl gushing over their crush to her best friend. But she couldn't help it. Hannibal Lecter had made her feel so unraveled and undone that she was a little at a loss and scared. No one had ever made her feel this way before. But she didn't tell Elyse that part.

Elyse had practically screamed at her through the phone in excitement. And then she had told Lilia what she needed to wear and lectured her on the effort she needed to make for her appearance.  
Lilia did not need help in that department, she already had the perfect dress in mind and she knew exactly how she was going to do her hair.

After they had finished their conversation, Lilia went to her wardrobe and reached to the back and pulled the dress out. It was a deep burgundy, a deep neckline, but not too deep, and it draped from the shoulders. It was a tight dress. It came in at the waist and finished just above her knees. There was a slit in the left side, going halfway up her thigh – respectably flirty. That's what she called it.  
She placed the dress on the bed, and then went to her wardrobe, returning with black strappy heels that had lace on them on the floor.

"Okay. Outfit is ready to go." She said.

That had been the easy part. An hour later she was in the bathroom, still dealing with her hair. She had chosen to wear it half up half down, with two plaits going from the sides and meeting at the back, and adding some lazy curls throughout. The curling iron was her worst enemy. She had already burnt herself a few times while using it.

Though there had been struggles, by the end of it all, she was happy with the end result.  
She stood in front of her floor length mirror in the bedroom and smoothed her hands over the dress. She felt a little constricted. But she would deal with it.  
She had chosen pearl earrings and a silver necklace that sparkled under the light to accompany the outfit. Her makeup was done lightly, accentuating the blue of her eyes with eyeliner and mascara, some light blush on her cheeks, and a natural pink lipstick was what she had done. She didn't want to make it too overpowering.

She had sent the obligatory photo to Elyse.

A bombardment of messages had hit her phone within a few milliseconds.

Elyse had gushed over the dress, the hair – everything. She had said that Hannibal would not be able to take his eyes off of her. Lilia was happy with that.

The bell rang.

She shifted on her feet for a second, chewing her lip – she had to calm herself down, her heart was erratic.  
One last glance in the mirror and she walked to the door.

When she opened it, she opened it slowly. The creak from the old wood tickled her ears.  
When Hannibal was revealed on the other side her mouth fell open in an unintended gasp. He wore a navy blue suit with a black dress shirt, and a chequered blue and white tie. He looked so, so, _so _handsome, she was bewildered.

She remembered herself and smiled.

"Hi." She said quietly.

When she finally glanced at his face properly, she realised that his eyes, in fact, were actually roaming every expanse of her body.

She swallowed.

Then his eyes met hers, sharp, and his deep voice came out, entrancing her.

"You look utterly delicious. Stunning."

She smiled, so nervous under his stare, "Thank you."

Hannibal held out an arm to her, "Shall we depart? He asked.

She let out the breath that she had held, "Sure."

After the second _secret _alleyway that they had gone down Lilia started to feel flustered.

"Just where are you taking me?" She asked, trying to sound playful, but instead sounding afraid.

"Don't be frightened," he said, turning his head to look at her and his concern melted over her, "We're here now."

The soft curves of his voice calmed her and then he walked her through a broken down looking door.

"Looks can be deceiving," was all that he said as they walked through it.

They walked through a long hallway, and then out another door which led to a courtyard that was decorated in flowers and large oak trees. The stone path that they were walking down led to a marquee, where Lilia could see other people sitting down and eating their meals while soft music played in the background.

That's where she had thought they were going, but a tug in a different direction made her realise that they weren't going there.  
He must have noticed her confusion because then he said, "As beautiful as this place is, I have reserved something better."

The path that they followed led them away from the others – the noises became quieter, more natural. She looked down at the footpath, and smiled when she saw that it was aligned with pretty fairy lights.  
What it led to was something so beautiful and so illuminating that she marvelled loudly.

"Oh my…" she started, but trailed off as she stopped and looked around.

There was a lake – probably connected to Baltimore River – and a wooden boardwalk that stretched across the bank. Overlooking the water was a large Gazebo, with more fairy lights hanging from its roof, and a candlelit table in the middle.

"Hannibal…" She said softly.

He didn't say a word. Just watched her with a soft smile on his face.

"Come and sit."

He pulled her hand and walked her to the table, taking her chair out for her and gesturing for her to sit down.

"Thank you." She said as she took her seat.

He sat down and shuffled his jacket from his shoulders and then watched Lilia as she looked out over the water.

"You're very quiet." He noted.

She looked up with her cerulean gaze, almost trembling from the excitement and shock of the incredible place.

"I'm just so surprised…This place is so beautiful and you're so…" she trailed off, not really sure of what word she was going to say.

"I'm what?" He asked.

She smiled, "You're so charming and enchanting…and you make me so…nervous."

She looked away from him, the connection of their gazes becoming too much for her while she revealed how she felt.

When his warm hand enclosed around her own she felt her breath catch in her throat, and her eyes immediately darted back to his face.

"Please don't feel nervous."

His face was warm and inviting, and his words _did _calm her.

But the touch. The touch was entirely different. The moment that his skin touched hers something ignited across her nerves, and travelled up her arm to her heart. It was much harder to concentrate with the soft touch that was his.

Hannibal had tilted his head while holding her gaze – a silent question – and she remembered that she still had not said anything to him.

Then his thumb brushed across the top of her hand, and she almost shuddered.

"You're very beautiful when you're nervous."

Finally she let out a laugh and after one last brush of his fingers against her porcelain skin he withdrew, and poured them both a glass of wine.

"A toast," he started, as he finished pouring his glass.

She eyed him warmly.

"To enjoying the evening," he said, raising his glass.

"To feeling less nervous," she joked, and he smiled at her as their glasses clinked.

The dinner had been effortless after that. Lilia felt more comfortable, and the flow of conversation went on easily between them. And the food had been incredible – she wondered if he had specifically told them what meals to make.  
Lilia had been a little worried though. This place was so incredible, so beautiful, but for it to be so wondrous, it also must have been very expensive. She felt guilty that he must have spent a lot of money on her.

They were walking along the boardwalk when she said to him, "Tonight has been so incredible, Hannibal."  
He had had his hand on her waist, but it travelled up her back in a sweet gesture, "I am glad that you have enjoyed yourself. I hope the food was enjoyable too."

She almost scoffed, "Oh Hannibal, I have enjoyed every single second of the evening – especially the food. I just hope that you didn't have to go to too much trouble for all of this."

He stopped her for a second, a sweet smile on his face, "It was no trouble at all."

She sighed, nodding – it would be no good to dwell on it with him.

"I should be getting you home." He said, and led her to the exit.

As they walked along the streets of Baltimore, under the sheen of nightfall, they stayed silent. Hannibal had linked his hand with hers when they had started walking, and it was quite debilitating to Lilia. She was finding it hard to make her legs move.

Something wet slid down her face and her hand reflexively shot to her cheek as she wiped at it, noticing that it was a water droplet.  
"Oh," she said, remembering the forecast for today, and though it had taken its time arriving, it had come. And it was coming fast.

Hannibal had only just uttered, "What is it?" beside her, before the rain thundered down upon them. It was harsh and powerful as it fell from the sky – they were drenched from the beginning.

Lilia giggled and Hannibal watched her intently as she held out her hands to catch it.  
She spun around, feeling so young, as she enjoyed the feeling of it rolling down her skin.

Then there was a tug at her elbow, and she was being pulled into a small alcove, "What are you-

Her sentence was left behind as he slowly walked her backwards until her back was pressed against the wall, and his eyes swam with something that entranced her.

Under his gaze she had become practically inanimate. Just an object that breathed – an object that felt so magnetic and so helpless.

Hannibal's eyes roamed over her, and then his hand brushed down the side of her arm, collecting pieces of rainwater as it did. Then it waded up toward her collarbone and her chest heaved as her heart raced. His touch was sweet – delicate, and it made her _tremor_.  
His gaze was fierce, scattered across her skin and it overpowered her.  
The touch became more prominent as it smoothed toward her neck, where the angry scar was.

She closed her eyes and swallowed.

He stepped closer.

Now his breath, hot and taintilising, trailed across her skin, and she felt hypnotised.

When she opened her eyes again they were met with fiery brown ones. The brush of a thumb across her throat, and then he was leaning closer, excruciatingly slow in the movement, or maybe that was how she was perceiving it, but nevertheless, it was _excruciating.  
_Her heart pounded and pounded while her eyes were held in his gaze, and then he was so close that his breath toucher her lips.

_She shuddered._

She closed her eyes again, hitching when his nose touched hers, and on reflex her hands slid to his chest, while her breaths were quick and provoked.

Then the light touch of his lips – _barely _touching her own, took away any coherent thought she could muster. His other hand was on her cheek now, caressing and spreading fire, and he was breathing harder as his mouth teased her own.  
She could _taste _his breath.  
She leaned in closer because she needed _more,_ she needed to feel his mouth – feel _him. _  
But as she chased, he retreated, their foreheads still touching but his mouth just out of reach.  
She nearly groaned.  
She ached for contact.

Then she was suddenly wet, cold and not in his arms. Confused, she opened her eyes, her chest heaving and legs barely holding her, and she looked up to see him leaning against the wall across from her with a smirk plastered on his chiselled face. He looked as though they hadn't just been in the midst of a very intense moment and almost _kiss_.

She wondered if he enjoyed torturing her like this.

"The rain has stopped," she hadn't noticed, "let me get you home."

Lilia became a puppet as he took her hand and walked her back onto the street. Her mind was reeling. Her inner self was screaming at her – and screaming profanities at him. She _wanted _him. She wondered if he had any difficulty tearing himself away from her then – because she felt like something had ripped from her and then as though someone tied bricks inside her stomach and they were dropped as he pulled away.

She was still shaking from the contact but Hannibal seemed to not notice.

When they reached her apartment door, he was still silent, and intense – looking at her as she faced him.

He lifted his hand and carded his thumb across her cheek, then it grazed her bottom lip and she closed her eyes at the touch.

"What are you doing, Hannibal" She questioned, exasperated and withering under his touch.

Then he leaned in close again, this time bringing his lips to the shell of her ear, "I want you to _take _what you _want."  
_

**A/N: DUN DA DA DAAAAAAAAAAA**

**YES. I am afraid it is another cliff hanger. Sorry about it. It literally just happened like that while I was writing.**

**BUT HEY GUESS WHAT GUYS.**

**HANNIBAL AND LILIA ARE GETTING IT ON NEXT CHAPTER PROBABLY.**

**TEHEHEHE**

**THANKS FOR ALL THE FOLLOWS AND REVIEWS!**

**DANCE PARTY FOR EVERYONE**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I'm not gonna lie, I'm drunk, and I'm impatient when I'm drunk….SO THIS ISN'T EDITED…SOZ ABOUT IT, BUT ENJOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.**

_**Drowned by the temptation **_

Her eyes were still closed.  
His warm, paralysing breath still caressed her ear.  
And his _words…_Well they were crawling across the surface of her skin trying to find a way to bury themselves inside of her.  
He was unbearably close.  
Pressing her against the wall with all of his heat trapping her – there was no escape.  
Lilia tried to speak but her throat had closed up, and then Hannibal moved his _perfect _mouth to her neck and she craned it so quickly that she swore she could feel him smirking.  
The hallway was barraged with the rapid repetition of her breaths escaping her.  
Was this how it felt to have an animal, _inhuman _attraction to someone? It sure felt inhuman.  
She could feel the light graze of his lips on her skin, but the sensation was _felt _all over her body.  
He pulled back.  
She stared.  
He leant in – her mouth trembling for his, and her lips parted as he inched closer.  
With an impossible gap between them she tasted his words as he whispered, "_Take what you want."_  
She breathed.  
Then she grabbed the back of his head and pressed her mouth to his in such desperation that their teeth almost clashed.  
She let out a small whimper as she sucked on his mouth and pressed her body into him.  
Hannibal returned the kiss as fervently, if not _more; _yet she was rapacious and greedy in the way that she claimed his mouth with hers, darting her tongue across his bottom lip and biting.  
He _growled._  
A hard shove and hands that were hot and squeezing down her sides told her that he was craving her just as much as she was him.  
Then his right hand was travelling up her thigh, inching under the slit in her dress and her mind went blank.  
She gasped and then his mouth was on her neck again.  
His hand was burning her skin but it was _right _and sent flames to her core. She trembled and stopped herself from moaning – barely coherent.  
Then something jolted through her body and she grabbed his tie, "Come with me."  
He watched her with the face of a devourer as she unlocked her apartment and walked through the door.

She had only just passed the dining table as he grabbed her elbow and pulled her to him. His lips were fire, and he tasted like a drug that she _craved. _  
"_Hannibal," _she moaned, and he pushed her to the table, lifting her to the edge as his hands, deathly slow, pushed her dress up.  
Higher and _higher _it went, and she ran her hands up the smooth material of his shirt, feeling his muscles pressing into the palms of her hands.  
It was so completely intoxicating.  
She breathed him in, revelling in the smell that was _Hannibal. _A mix of spices and something else that she couldn't quite place surrounded her – she loved it.  
His lips never faltered as they assaulted hers deliciously; and she almost fell into the well before her, so overcome by every sensation.  
The _touch, taste….smell of him.  
_His hands, so minute in their movement, had almost pushed her dress all the way up to her waist, and she felt him groan through her as his fingers ran over the material of her underwear.  
Her roaming hands had finally succeeded in ridding him of his tie, and then the first few buttons of his shirt.  
So liberating was the feeling of her hands against the hair on his chest, and the thud of his rapidly pounding heart beneath her hand – _toxic.  
_She pushed him back, before his hands got too far, and made him walk backwards into her room – all the while maintaining eye contact with him. It felt so open.

Lilia had pushed him, with his haphazard tie and unbuttoned shirt, onto the end of her bed. Hannibal's legs were slightly parted, and she could see _how _much he wanted her; and god she wanted him just as badly.  
She turned away from him, one glance back over her shoulder – maybe it was her last modicum of nervousness, and then pushed the dress from her shoulders, and let it drop from her body to the floor.  
Then there were hands sneaking around her waist from behind, smoothing down the soft expanse of her skin and a _tongue _trailing down the side of her neck as she felt his member press into her back.  
She moaned.  
"You are a _temptress_," he said into her neck – tasting her.  
She sighed, pressing back into him again, and _how _she loved the feel of his hard body pressed up against her.  
"I was seducing you," She whispered as he bit down on the space between neck and shoulder, and she nearly lost her mind.  
"Oh," he uttered, while nibbling his way up to her ear, "And you're not now?" he said, his hands dipping just underneath the top of her panties; and the sensation shot like electricity through her.  
She tried to say no, but the words were so hard to form that she had to settle for shaking her head; just barely missing the nip at her ear.  
Hannibal turned her around – a heat in his brown eyes, and he said, "_Seduce me."  
_  
Such an intoxicating man. She pushed him, rougher than she had intended, onto the bed; but he fell back and watched her with heated eyes.  
Then she walked forward, slipping her heels from her feet, and crawled half over his body – she felt him breathe out a long breath when she dipped her head close to breathe him in.  
Her hands were tantalisingly slow as they unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, but when they did she sat back on his legs, feeling _him_, and running her hands over his toned chest.  
He drove her crazy.  
When she leaned back in his hands were fast at her waist, and teasingly slipping under her white lace panties again.  
She didn't let it distract her for long as she sucked at the rapid pulse of his neck. He tasted good.  
The flex of his hands against her ass made her shudder, but she brought her mouth just over his, nipping at his lips – but denying him of a kiss, just like he had her, and he growled, a low and deep rumble from his chest.  
Her hands had trailed down, and down his body until they reached his belt, which she speedily unfastened, throwing it aside.  
He smirked.  
She licked at his mouth, and began tracing his hip bones lightly before pulling at the zipper on his pants.  
"Do you feel _seduced, _Doctor Lecter?" She asked, breath etching his lips and he leant up to nip at her own – he had succeeded.  
His hands pulled her hair back from her face, until he scrunched them in it and hooked one of his legs over her own, ultimately bringing her closer.  
Their mingled breaths and erratic hearts were the only sounds.  
His tongue scraped her upper lip as she fell into his stare.  
"_I want you," _he said, and then his hand was on her ass and he pushed her hard into his member, grinding himself against her centre and her voice broke in his ear at the feeling of him pressed against her _there. _  
Lilia had never felt this completely drowned in a human before. But hearing those words fall from his lips had touched something deep within her, and it was only for a few seconds, but she stared at him, tasting his existence and holding his gaze.  
And then she twisted her hips, grinding downwards and moaned into his ear as his member pressed against her again.  
The moan that left Hannibal was something that she wanted to hear more. So she pressed down again, this time harder, and she felt his hands tighten on her ass as he hissed at her.  
"_Lilia," _he croaked.  
She had no control over her body after that sound.  
She grabbed his pants at his hips and practically ripped them from him. Her mouth was hot and heavy, her tongue delving into his mouth – and it swirled around his tongue, _finally _experiencing the full _flavour _of him. It was unexplainable.  
_Then _her hand trailed down his stomach, and dipped under his briefs, taking hold of his _hard, excited _member, and she bit down hard on his lip.  
Hannibal arched into the touch.  
Lilia gave it a few pumps, loving the way that his body reacted to her touch.  
The sounds that emitted from him were guttural.  
Then she was no longer on top.  
She was underneath a _man _who was suffocating her in kisses that made her toes curl.  
Then his hands slipped under her back, and he undid the clasp of her bra; and he watched it fall from her body like the first drop of rain, and his hands replaced the material.  
"So beautiful," he whispered, ducking his head to take a nipple into his mouth.  
Lilia tossed her head back, and arched into his warm cavern, not for one second relenting in the sounds that her body exhibited.  
Hannibal had distracted her.  
Her mind was no longer hers.  
He had shifted her panties, inch by inch, down her body, until she was just there – bare for him.  
Hannibal paused his ministrations.  
He sat back, and his eyes roamed every section of her body – committing it to his memory.  
And Lilia just stayed silent, her chest heaving, and waited for his next move.  
It might have been brash…  
But he was staring at her for longer than she thought he would. He was torturing her. So she slowly slid her hand up his thigh, and then back under his briefs to caress his aching member. It _throbbed _under her touch.  
Hannibal's head tilted back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.  
His hips bucked into her touch, and Lilia bit her lip.  
"_Take _what you _want, Hannibal_," she said to him.  
His eyes burst open.  
An animal expression met her own.  
And then like a magnetic haze, his briefs were gone and he was over her, his hand sliding down her body, meeting her _wet, wet cunt. _  
"Oh!"  
Her voice echoed around them, and he slipped a finger inside of her.  
"You are so _wet_," he said to her, his mouth biting at her flesh again.  
Lilia couldn't speak. The way his fingers entered her and pulled in and out had completely eradicated her ability to do _anything. _  
She could only react.  
They pulsed within her.  
And then he shoved them in and out, _harder, _and a moan left her lips to meet his ears. He smirked down at her.  
"Please," she begged.  
Hannibal's fingers never stopped moving – and Lilia knew she was so _close, _because all he had to do was just breathe and she was _wet. _  
"_Please," _she whispered again, and pulled him by the neck to bring her lips across his mouth again, while pulling his hand from her and tugging on his aching cock.  
"Is this," he started, moving his cock to prod at her wet entrance, "What you want?"  
She nodded, thrusting her hips against him, and nearly coming from the feel of him pressed against her.  
And then he thrust it so hard inside of her, a groan escaped him and she cried out at the feeling. She was so tight and wet, and her walls throbbed around his twitching member.  
"_Hannibal," _she moaned, again – the only thing she was able to do.  
Then with an unrelenting pace he thrust in and out of her, powerful and heavy, and he held her legs open wider so he could bury himself _deeper.  
_Her cries of pleasure were on repeat as she moaned over and over, her voice stretching higher and higher, because he felt _incredible _inside of her.  
And then as he bit down on her shoulder, angling his hips so that he hit the right spot – harder and harder, she _came. _  
It was unexpected.  
And it was instant.  
It shattered her, and she cried out his name as her walls contracted around his thick cock.  
He never stopped thrusting.  
Her orgasm was immense and wracked her whole body with pleasure as she twisted around him.  
And then he just kept _fucking _her.  
It was brutal, but she had never come that hard before.  
And she came two more times before Hannibal himself finished.  
She was hooked on the way that his mouth hung open in a silent cry of pleasure, and the way his arms tensed with every thrust, wanting to experience that more with him.

When they had finished, lying naked in her bed, he had drifted his arm lazily down her side and whispered, "_You are undoing me." _  
She wasn't sure what he meant, but she smiled, shuddering at the light touch of his fingers across her naked form.  
And then they slept.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry guys, this is a really short chapter, but it's also a little fluffy – so hopefully you can forgive me!**

_** Between the sheets where we lay**_

As the shade of sleep slowly left her system, and the hum of rhythmic breathing trickled across the skin of her neck, Lilia smiled. Holding her breath and turning as slowly as she could, she faced the man beside her. It was captivating. She had never seen Hannibal look so human before – so raw – yet here amongst her sheets, under the soft light of morning that carded through his hair and kissed his cheeks; and the balanced rise and fall of his bare chest, he looked _real._  
He lay on his side, legs tangled in the sheets – that rested on his waist – the small jut of his hipbones just visible before disappearing under cover. She stared at him, thoughtful.  
Her hand twitched to touch him and she did not deny it for a second as she gingerly reached out and brushed his fallen fringe away from his eyes. There was a slight hitch in his breathing - a tremored undulation of breath - and she was worried that she had woken him, but it returned to normal and she let the pads of her fingers run along the side of his face, tracing the sharp crux of his cheekbone.

Lilia liked the rough texture of his stubble against her fingertips. She smiled to herself because she had never seen him with the shadowy hairs and, to Hannibal, it was probably unacceptable for him to ever be so unpresentable.  
Her fingers continued to map his skin – brushing along his refined jawline, then ghosting over his beautiful, sensuous mouth, not once, but twice – the back and forth motion like silk under her thumb.  
He moved then. A slow tilt of his head, the small shift of tangled legs, and then a quirk of lips as he recognised the touch was _her._  
His eyes stayed closed, but he moved his mouth softly against her paused thumb, "Good morning."  
The deep thrum of his voice tickled her thumb and she moved it away from his mouth – but still cupped the square of his jaw – and she whispered back, "Hi."  
She moved closer, just enough so that their noses were almost touching – and she watched the flitter of his eyelashes as his eyes opened.  
Hannibal smiled – a lovely, serene, half-awake smile; and she felt it like a hum, just barely coherent trickling across the hairs on her arms.  
Lilia stayed silent, still tracing the corners of his skin – committing every movement of brow, every lift of his chest as he exhaled, the slow succumb to the deep brown-green of his eyes illuminated in the light, to memory.  
_  
"I'm completely and madly falling for him." _She thought.

It wasn't something that had just suddenly happened to her. Lilia had known, for some time now, that she was drowning in Hannibal – grasping onto the very essence of him and she had no control over it.  
Hannibal's hand shifted, skirting up her waist and then softly sliding down her cheek, then tucking her hair behind her ear.  
He regarded her thoughtful stare, chuckling – a deep rumble that vibrated through her, "What _are _you doing, Miss Peters?"  
She stopped the slight caress of thumb, illuminated by him, "Knowing you." She replied.  
There was a falter in his smile; it hitched from its completion, suspended by her words, and he fell silent. Lilia took no note of the fragmented movements that he made though, she just leaned in closely and let her lips softly meet his in a greeting. Hannibal returned the kiss, the soft slide of their lips a welcome, and he sighed, pulling back.  
"Shall I make you breakfast?" He asked, thumb trailing her pink mouth.  
Lilia giggled – no one had ever offered to make her breakfast in her own house before, other than Elyse, and she internally marvelled at the thought. She felt _special. _  
"Shouldn't I be making you breakfast?" She asked, while sitting up in the bed and staring down at Hannibal, who was now propped on an elbow admiring her.  
"A gentleman always offers," he replied while sitting up and holding her head between two hands,  
"Let me make you breakfast." He finished, kissing her lips once more, but a deeper headier kiss with roaming hands that had left Lilia feeling quite dishevelled and angry that he was now no longer in her bed.  
But then the naked, toned and incredibly handsome form of Hannibal Lecter was walking out of her bedroom and into her kitchen.  
Hannibal was making her breakfast.  
Hannibal was making her breakfast _naked. _


End file.
